Back To the Phoenix
by SanityIsNotStatistical
Summary: When Harry goes back in time Lily accidentally falls for him instead of James and hilarity ensues. Now he must get his parents back together and back to the future-all with the help of Dumbledore of course!
1. New Teachers and Late Gifts

A/N: My fire doesn't work so I used an old blanket I found cause my front room was FREEZING, only to discover the dust in it s

**A/N: Let's face it folks, time-travel rocks, whether its coming from a mad American Professor with a dog called Einstein or a mad English Professor with a phoenix called Fawkes (oh, yeah, who happens to be a wizard.) Who would really object if Marty McFly was, instead Harry Potter? **

**No, this isn't AU, this is Back to the Future Harry Potter style, no crossover, just the plot working strangely well when used in a wizarding context. **

**Inspired by TeenLaunch's story Carry On, check it out, it's great stuff. (This story totally works if you've never seen Back to the Future by the way)**

**Disclaimer: I own zilch of Harry Potter, and nada of the BTTF plot. :) **

Back to the Phoenix 

New Teachers and Late Gifts

"Harry! Wake up!" Harry Potter opened his bleary and sleep-heavy eyes to see a red blob hanging above him, which, when he fumbled for his glasses and pulled them on, turned out to be one of his best friends, Ron Weasley.

"W-what?" he groaned, trying to pull his duvet back over his head only to be reprimanded by a voice that told Harry he and Ron were not alone. "Harry, we'll be late unless you get you're lazy arse out of bed right now!" Harry thought of Ron as _one _of his best friends for the reason that was now sitting on Ron's bed across the room, fully dressed and ready to go.

"Mione?" he mumbled, and then came to his senses, "Hey, you're not allowed in Ron's room!"

"And why ever not?" Hermione was grinning at his indignant tone as she spoke.

"Because it's a boy's room-"

"Harry, don't be ridiculous, I've been in here hundreds of times before-"

"That was different, you and Ron weren't together, how am I supposed know what you got up to while I was asleep?" he raised his eyebrows cheekily, Ron turned around and started throwing stuff into his trunk with what he probably thought was a dignified silence and Hermione turned a delicate shade of pink that suggested just what they had got up to while he was asleep.

Harry grinned mischievously and swung his legs out of bed, "Bugger off then, I need to get dressed." When Hermione did not move he started unbuttoning his pyjamas as a scaring tactic. "Ugh! Alright, I get the point, I'm moving," she replied with distaste as she stepped over a pile of dirty laundry festering on the floor of their room.

Harry had his trunk hastily packed in time for breakfast and managed to find some decent robes to wear before he joined Ron to go and eat. The smell of breakfast wafted up to them as they headed downstairs, the sound of bacon sizzling and loud chatter joining it as they entered the kitchen.

"I don't even see why we have to take the train! Why can't we just apparate?" Ron moaned as they sat down next to Ginny, Hermione, Arthur and Molly, who was bustling about the kitchen. "We could get up hours later and still have plenty of time before we had to leave!"

Harry kissed Ginny good morning on the cheek an act which, he could not help but notice, made Molly beam and Ron go slightly red. Secretly, though he would never say for fear of angering Ron, he was glad they were going by train. It gave him a great opportunity to spend time with Ginny and it was nice to ride one last time to school on the gleaming red Hogwarts Express, for old time's sakes.

"It's going to be so weird us all being in the same year!" Hermione exclaimed,

"It's going to be great!" replied Ginny enthusiastically, "Finally, I get to spend time with my best friend and boyfriend." No-one failed to notice her exclusion of Ron, or the grumbling now coming from his direction.

Several of Harry's year had, for various reasons, (though all stemming from the War) missed their final year at Hogwarts, the new head, McGonagall, had offered them an opportunity to repeat the year and gain the NEWTs they all desperately needed to get decent jobs, and almost all had accepted. Neither of the Weasley sibling's had been thrilled, however, when they realised this meant being in the same year as each other.

Ginny was, on many accounts though, happy with the arrangements, as she said she could spend more time with Hermione, who she had grown particularly close with over the last couple of years, and she hinted to Harry that he finally had an opportunity to make up for the year he had spent on the run with Ron and Hermione and had left her behind and thoroughly left out.

Harry had been only too happy to oblige, considering part of this making it up to her probably primarily consisted of making _out_ with her, away from the eyes of Ron ofcourse. "You know what I realised? It's going to be so weird spending a year at school when someone's _not _trying to kill me." They laughed, and Ginny began buttering some toast, "Well, that should easily make it your best year so far then."

"I don't know about that, I've had some pretty good one's, despite the whole looming death thing. I don't see what could top some of them."

"We'll see about that…" murmured Ginny so quietly and with a voice so packed with innuendo that Harry wasn't quite sure she had really said it, but Arthur, who was sat next to her, cleared his throat loudly and pulled his Daily Prophet closer to his face noisily, and Ron was looking between them suspiciously. "What was that? What did you say?" he shot at Ginny.

"Stop interrogating them, Ron." Hermione breathed and smiled at Ron in a way that shut him up pretty quickly. Harry grinned, Hermione had only recently discovered the power she held over Ron when she used that smile, and consequently, they had been seeing it a lot.

They arrived at the station, for once, without too much drama, it was only the four of them returning to Hogwarts this year so the car ride had seemed actually quite quiet as they drove to Kings Cross. "Now don't forget, Ginny and Ron, be nice to each other, it's all the more important you get along this year, don't make it difficult for each other." Mrs Weasley ordered them as they pushed through the barrier.

But Harry had not been expecting what awaited them on the other side.

He should of, he'd known, he'd lived all his life with it, some times more concentrated than others, admittedly, but never anything of this magnitude. It was like someone had walked in naked, magically increased the volume of their voice and declared they were a Pygmy Puff who liked to dance-which, complicated simile aside, boiled down to A LOT of staring and talking.

"What have I done now?" Harry groaned to Ron, Hermione and Ginny as everyone was, (he deduced from one small child's pointing) clearly talking about him.

"Only defeated the greatest and most powerful dark wizard of all time and ultimately saved the wizarding community from destruction," smirked Hermione.

"And you're _my_ boyfriend!" Ginny commented gleefully, Ron looked shocked, "Ginny you're not just dating Harry because-"

"Ofcourse I'm not, you idiot!" Ginny glared at her brother coldly and took Harry's hand as they headed for the train. Harry could hear Hermione behind him with Ron, "That _was_ a pretty stupid thing to say Ron."

"How was I supposed to know she was joking!" he grumbled.

But halfway to the train Harry was intercepted by a wizard he had never seen before, he held out his hand and Harry took it automatically. "I just wanted to say well done, young man, you are an absolute credit to us all!" the wizard beamed at him and shook his hand vigorously. Harry was stunned.

He stared bewilderedly at Ginny, who was grinning, "What did you expect?"

The next person to interrupt them was a witch with curly brown hair, she too clasped Harry's hand, and, to his great embarrassment, rather tearily thanked him for their livelihood and commented on how brave he was. By the time Ginny managed to rescue him and steer him through the train doors, Harry was so red with embarrassment he looked like he had been for a long run.

The staring on the train was, at least, a little more familiar, and most people seemed too intimidated to approach him. They were, however, greeted enthusiastically by Seamus and Dean, who had both returned to Hogwarts that year, Harry couldn't help but notice that a crowd of younger years surged around them when they saw the two boys on such good terms with him.

Ginny was randomly pulling open compartment doors looking for someone, dragging Harry behind, speechless, her activities did not really help, because as soon as the people inside saw who was accompanying the girl who had pulled open their compartment they had a tendency to poke their heads out and ogle at Harry as he carried on down the corridor.

Finally, Ginny seemed to find what she had been looking for, and pulled Harry into a compartment where Luna Lovegood was sitting. "Hey Luna!" Harry smiled at her warmly, glad to find someone who would not stare at him anymore than was usual. She smiled back, "Hello Harry, Ginny, did you know, everyone's been asking me about you since you killed Voldemort, it's been very odd," she said dreamily. Harry thought that Luna describing something as 'odd' was rather the pot calling the kettle black.

"Are Ron and Hermione on prefect duty?" Ginny nodded, and Harry realised there was someone missing from their usually motley band. "Hey, where's Neville?" Harry found it slightly disconcerting to find the smiling round-face boy absent from the compartment.

"He was here for his final year, wasn't he?" Luna explained, "I'll miss him, the DA was great fun with him…" Harry was reminded uncomfortably of the fact that Neville had had to live as a fugitive at Hogwarts the previous year, and that he, Ginny and Luna had run a kind of resistance against the Death eater's ruling the school. He remembered, too, that they had been regularly and torturously punished for their escapades and that Luna had been abducted and held prisoner at the Malfoy mansion during this time. Once again, Luna's describing the DA that year as 'great fun' demonstrated her uncomfortable frankness and consequently revealed her loneliness before the DA.

"Oh yeah…" Harry was still uncomfortable about the memories Luna had dug up, "I should write to him, ask him what he's up to." He was distracted by a bumping outside the door, and saw through the glass several figures hanging around outside. "Harry, put your invisibility cloak on," Ginny ordered.

"What?"

"Just do it," she sighed, he obeyed, and she waited until he was completely covered before she flung the door open. "What?" she glared at the group of frightened fifth-years with venom.

"W-we're l-looking for Harry Potter!" One of them squeaked defiantly.

"He's gone to find the food trolley," Ginny said exasperatedly, as if this was obvious, and watched as the group set off excitedly for the other end of the train and slammed the door shut behind them. Harry pulled off his cloak and flung it onto the seat next to Luna, who had been watching the whole scene with mild interest.

"That was brilliant Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, and went to kiss her, but stopped, remembering Luna. "Oh, don't mind me," she said, and pulled out a Quibbler from her bag before disappearing behind it. Harry took this as a sign and spent the next couple of minutes snogging his girlfriend.

--

Several hours and games of exploding snap later, Ron and Hermione had rejoined them and they were all shrugging on their robes as Hogwarts loomed into sight. When Harry first glimpsed the castle out of the train window his heart had lurched. He had never really realised how much he had missed the school over the previous year and despite his fond memories of the building being slightly marred by the scenes it had provided setting for during the War he could not help but have his already high spirits lifted. Ginny was right, this was going to be a good year, probably the best.

Not long after they were taking their seats at the Gryffindor table, having waved goodbye to a vacant Luna, who had warned them against Triple-Gnarled Doraks before heading off to the Ravenclaw table. Almost as soon as they had sat down Hermione gasped.

"Oh my goodness! Look, it's Neville!" when they looked up she was pointing, to their immense surprise, towards the staff table.

Sure enough, however, Neville was seated on the staff table, looking rather grown-up whilst in deep conversation with Professor Sprout. His eyes were dancing with excitement, and Harry had to conclude that Neville's year spent being terrorised by the death eaters ruling Hogwarts had definitely aged him, his face, at least, appeared much less round than usual.

They found it very easy, as the Gryffindor table was the closest to the staff's, to catch Neville's eye. They all smiled and waved at him, he waved back, mouthing a 'Hello.' They all made gestures to indicate they wanted him to explain what was going on, but he merely mouthed again 'Later' before striking up a conversation with the member of staff on his right.

They only had to wait till after supper to find out the reason behind Neville's curious new situation, when McGonagall made the usual beginning of year speech. It was certainly strange to see the Transfiguration teacher up there, and Harry remembered with a pang that this was the first year he wasn't hearing the speech from the eccentric, white-haired wizard who over the years had been his headmaster, his guide, his mentor and confidant, and most importantly, his friend.

"As several of our previous seventh years will be returning to complete their Newts this year, we have enlisted the help of extra staff wherever possible. Mr Longbottom will be acting as assistant and Trainee Professor in the Herbology department, and we at Hogwarts are happy to welcome such talent, and so recently out of school himself, to our Staff here."

At these words Neville turned bright red and stared at his feet, whilst most of the students clapped enthusiastically a deafening roar of cheers and applause erupted from the Gryffindor table. "This is great!" Ron shouted above the noise and Harry nodded back in agreement.

McGonagall wished them all goodnight and they headed out the great hall to their dormitories, Harry, however, was intercepted on the stairs by a younger student looking at him with such unconcealed adoration that he felt very uncomfortable. She handed him a scroll of parchment that Harry quickly unrolled. He read it as he hurried away from the small girl, Ron, Ginny and Hermione following him.

"It's a note from McGonagall, she wants me to go and see her tomorrow night." Harry explained, answering their questioning looks with an equally puzzled tone. They spent the rest of the way to the common room coming up with theories as to why she would want to see Harry, before they quickly departed at their dormitory stairs, exhausted and hungry for sleep.

--

Breakfast the next morning was comfortably familiar, and Harry could sense this feeling being enhanced by the sight of Hermione buried in a Daily Prophet. He was about to greet her as he pulled a plate of bacon towards him when she looked up unprompted, her face slightly pale. "What's wrong?" he asked thickly, his mouth full.

"It's those Death eaters, they still haven't caught them." Over the summer the biggest story in the prophet had been the attempts to catch a small band of remaining Death eaters, who had fled, much like before, after Voldemort's defeat. The Auror department had been working day and night since to destroy the last supporters of the dark lord and to ensure that his memory was just that, a memory, once and for all.

The story generated excitement and the small thrill of danger that seemed to entertain the Daily Prophet's readers. Despite the horrific events of the War caused at these murderer's hands, which almost all members of the wizarding community had witnessed in some form or another, it seemed the public still followed this story with immense interest, all too easily forgetting the events of the previous few years.

Harry had to say he didn't blame them. It would be nice to be able to forget and move on to thoughts of happier times. Harry was just learning himself how to let go of things that had been out of his control and become more peaceful in himself, it was a slow, hard task, but he was getting better at it and could not help but admit his outlook on life seemed much more positive since he had been exercising this philosophy.

Neither he nor Ron was particularly worried about the story. According to Arthur, the group of supporters was very weak and the Aurors were soon to catch them sooner or later. He was sure they wouldn't dare attack Hogwarts or try to target anything similar, not with the ministry stronger than ever. Hermione, however, was increasingly worried about the affair. Her tendency to fret over things not worth the worry had by no means diminished, and it was starting to get on Ron and Harry's nerves.

"Mione, stop worrying, it's no big deal, you heard what my Dad said, there's no way they'd try anything," Ron tried to assure her through a mouth full of scrambled egg.

She bit her lip, "But that's just why I'm worried. They'll be starting to get desperate, and who knows what they'll try?" But they just ignored her, knowing that their attempts to quell her anxiety would only serve to irritate. Once they had collected their timetables, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, (who had joined them after waking late) continued to speculate about McGonagall's note.

"Maybe she's going to give you private lessons, like Dumbledore did?" Ron suggested, unconvinced by his own theory. Unsurprisingly, Harry shook his head,

"What for? Dumbledore's lessons were to help me defeat Voldemort, not really much point of that now is there?"

"I know! It'll be about the Quidditch team, it's your last year as captain, I expect she'll want to give you a few pointers or something." They agreed that Ginny's was the most plausible explanation and Harry could not help but feel a little disappointed at the realisation that this was probably all that he was needed for. He despised himself a little for it, but he could not help but have expected something a bit more…important, he was after all, (he shuddered at the size of his own ego when this thought occurred) Harry Potter, it was never usually something normal.

It was certainly an odd sensation following Ginny to Charms. Before they said goodbye to Hermione, as she headed for Arithmancy, they all agreed to go visit Neville when they next all had a free period, which was after lunch. None of them had decided to take Herbology for NEWTs except Ginny, who did not have her lesson until Thursday and no-one wanted to wait to congratulate him until then.

When they did go to visit him, however, he was almost too busy to talk to them. "Hi guys!" he had hurried over to them when they had entered the greenhouses, literally up to his elbows in earth and surrounded by a group of first years having their first lesson on mandrakes. The four of them quickly all found a pair of earmuffs as Neville was suddenly interrupted by a small squeal and an exclamation of "Professor Longbottom! It bit me, sir!" and he hurried off aid the student.

"Ah, I remember when we had this lesson, like it was yesterday," said Ron reminiscently as they all clamped their hands over their earmuffs when someone uprooted their mandrake. Neville, clearly having dealt with the bitten first year, returned, breathless but happy.

"We came to wish you congratulations," Harry explained.

Neville went a bit pink, "Thanks, Harry, it was really nice of you guys to bother."

"Don't mention it, course we would bother."

It was at that moment they began to notice the noise of mandrakes being uprooted or suspicious lack thereof. All of them, including Neville, turned to see that on the mention of Harry's name, almost all the class had stopped to gawp at the visitors to the greenhouse.

Harry ducked swiftly outside, a feeling of discomfort that had been lurking in his stomach intensifying. The others followed him. No-one mentioned the incident but Neville, who had joined them, but kept glancing back at the greenhouses to make sure no-one was in need of help.

"They'll be bombarding me with questions for the rest of the lesson now. I've already had two of them asking me about you."

Harry stared hard at his feet and mumbled, "Sorry."

Neville looked horrified, "No-I didn't mean it like that! It's no trouble, really; actually it's quite nice being associated with you so much." Neville sometimes rivalled Luna in making Harry feel uncomfortable. The gushing admiration that could be heard in his voice made him squirm inside.

"So-er-Neville, it's great you being a teacher, I'm really surprised they let someone so young teach though." Hermione swiftly and tactfully changed the subject.

Neville brightened visibly, "Oh, well, I was looking around for what to do next anyway, and then an owl arrived a couple of weeks explaining about the doubled amounts of seventh years and asking if I wouldn't mind helping out as an assistant. Gran's really pleased ofcourse, says it's a real privilege them offering me a place."

After congratulating Neville again they left for the rest of their classes. But everywhere they went Harry was almost burnt with the intensity of the stares and attention he received, he was used to such things, but never before this bad. Even when rumours had flew around school that he was opening the chamber of secrets in his second year, that he was a deranged liar looking for attention in his fifth, that he was the 'chosen one' in his sixth, it had never been this bad. And now that this last rumour had been somewhat confirmed by his defeat of Voldemort it seemed there was no escaping the ensuing gossip.

What people seemed most interested in, however, was what new drama Harry Potter was going to create. The papers now hounded him like a celebrity, obsessing over his relationship with Ginny, his fictitious love triangle with Hermione and Krum and consequently, Hermione dating Ron, the older brother of Harry's current girlfriend.

They wanted to know what was his favourite colour, his preferred type of girl and what his perfect day would be like. Unsurprisingly, after the interest about the real events of the war and what had went on switched to the petty fixation on how Harry would wear his hair this week, he had stopped bothering giving interviews, and now threw any letter he received from the Daily Prophet into the rubbish.

"But what did you expect Harry?" asked Hermione after he had barged past a large group of fourth years asking for his autograph, more out of frustration than meaning to be rude, and made a dash for the library where the gangs of admirers would at least be made to be quiet.

"I don't know, I just thought-I wanted this year to be nice and quiet, y'know? I thought it was all over, that I could have a normal existence for once." Hermione looked at him pityingly, "Your life is never going to be normal, Harry, you have to start accepting that most of it isn't going to be 'nice and quiet' either."

"But that's not-"

"I know it's not fair, but that's the way it is. I'm sorry, I know you never asked for this, that you're famous for mostly all the wrong reasons, but take consolation in the fact that for once, your not being stared at because everyone thinks you're a psycho." Harry laughed appreciatively, and took more consolation in the fact that he had friends like Hermione.

--

It was that evening he went to see McGonagall. The new password to her study had been given on the message and he could not help but feel a deep pang of sorrow and bitterness as he spoke to the gargoyle about something other than the sweets, both muggle and wizarding, that the eccentric Dumbledore had love so much.

He was surprised when McGonagall was not in her study when he arrived, but spent his time instead examining the differences in the room's decoration since he had last seen it. The changes were not too extreme, mostly they consisted of adding a lot of bookshelves but it still filled something like a small sense of betrayal in the bottom of Harry's subconscious, this would always be Dumbledore's office to him, nothing could ever change that.

He had been closely inspecting one particular bookshelf when he heard a blissfully familiar clearing of a throat. He spun around in disbelief, barely allowing himself to hope the impossible-and was met with the face of Albus Dumbledore.

Correction, the _painting_ of the face of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry's heart plummeted, having been pushed into his throat without him even realising it. He cursed himself for being so foolish and smiled pleasantly at the twinkling eyes of a man now dead. "Hello," he said.

The portrait smiled thinly, "Hello, been inspecting the new furnishings, have you?" Harry shrugged, "Yeah," his eyes drifted to the newest portrait on the wall, which was empty, "Hey, where's Snape?"

The portrait chuckled in a way that sent stabs of pain through Harry's heart. "He walked out as soon as you came in. It seems you still have quite an effect on Severus."

A brisk voice cut through the air, "I must thankyou Albus for keeping Mr Potter entertained whilst I was dealing with an unfortunate incident with Peeves and Filch, but I'm afraid I must interrupt." McGonagall had entered the study and was now sitting at her desk. "Have a seat, Harry."

Once he had obeyed McGonagall started to speak. "How have your lessons been so far?" she asked, Harry felt the little bit of him that had arrogantly expected more be disappointed. If McGonagall was beginning with idle chat it could hardly be particularly important.

"Fine," he answered.

"Not finding the schoolwork too hard?"

"No, nothing I can't handle."

"And what about everything else?" Harry, who hadn't been paying too much attention, now looked at her. She raised an eyebrow.

"You mean the publicity, the papers, the staring," he realised. She nodded. "It's not too bad, I'm used to it." This answer required a little twisting of the truth, it actually bothered Harry quite a bit, but he didn't want it to seem like he was whining about it.

"Good, good, I'm sure you're wondering why I've asked you here." She paused, and Harry nodded. "Last year you were left an item through Dumbledore's will, after the ministry had thoroughly examined it and could acquire no knowledge of its use. However, I have to tell you that that is not all he left you."

Harry was listening carefully now, his attention caught.

"Dumbledore left you an object that he didn't, for some reason, want the Ministry to examine, and it has resided at Hogwarts all of last year until now. I, infact, had no knowledge of it until I became Headmistress and Dumbledore's portrait insisted I visit the Room of Requirement, as I believe it is called. There I found this, attached with an note explaining I was to give it to you, as you have inherited it, but no other indication as to why he want you to have it.

"I say this because I cannot think why Dumbledore would want you to have this, and unless it has some great personal meaning that you will understand, I think you might be as puzzled as I was. However, Dumbledore was a great man and I'm sure he has his reasons, and though I do not understand why he would not want the Ministry to have seen it, I very much doubt that he would ever leave you anything potentially dangerous or unsuitable. Therefore, it is my duty to present you with this."

Harry could feel excitement in his chest, whatever this was it was sure to be interesting. He watched as McGonagall reached down and opened one of her desk drawers, pulling out an object that couldn't have possibly fit inside a drawer without magic, and placed it in front of him.

For the third time since he had entered the study Harry felt a sense of disappointment. "A broom?" he asked, staring at the object in complete bewilderment. He leaned forward and ran his hands up the handle, turning it over and recognising the make, "A _cleansweep?_"

McGonagall had been watching him. "I can tell it's not what you expected. Does it not have any personal significance?" Harry was still looking at the broom in bafflement, and shook his head, mystified. "Well, it belongs to you anyway, maybe Dumbledore meant you to understand its meaning in time. Good night, Mr Potter."

--

**A/N: Sorry nothing happens really in this chapter, trust me when I say stuff is happening real soon. So I originally wrote the first 2 chapters as one but it ened up too long, so I'm posting them separately at the same time, just so you don't decide not to bother with the wait!**


	2. Flying and Fame

**A/N: Short and to the point: The end of this is when stuff starts happening, I just took a real long time to set the scene, sorry! **

**Disclaimer: Nope, no HP rights here. Maybe that's because I don't own any of the Harry potter characters, but we all know that's just a cruel lie J.K's spreading to get back at me.**

Back to the Phoenix 

Flying and Fame

When Harry had returned from his meeting with McGonagall Ginny, Hermione and Ron pounced on him. They had been just as disappointed and confused when Harry showed them the broom. Ron had suggested that maybe it was an incredibly fast broom, specially enhanced by Dumbledore who had, after all, been a genius. They were going to test it out the next day to find out, but Harry was not optimistic. Still utterly nonplussed, he had gone to bed.

Dreams were troubling him again, dreams of flashes of green light, high cruel laughs, and the faces of dead people. The shadowy masked figures in a graveyard. The lifeless face of a young boy. A fluttering curtain in an archway with someone waiting just on the other side. A dark tower where he watched, unable to move. A small grave behind a cottage. Bodies lain out in a hall, row after row. A hooded figure reaching towards him with withered hands, sucking the happiness from him, taking away his soul…

And the words whispered to him, the ones that always found him, that dredged up what always lurked in his heart: _It's your fault. You should have saved them, you weren't strong enough and now they blame you. They all blame you. They're gone because of you… _

Conscious, he was able to push these thoughts away, but it was in sleep when his darkest fears found him. Part of him burned with the truth of the words, another screamed that they were wrong, because if they weren't he knew he would be unable to take it.

He woke with a figure shaking him awake, the way he always seemed to end his dreams. He found the words still on his lips as he thrashed in the tangle sheets: "It's all my fault." Ron stood over him, worry in his eyes, Dean and Seamus, who, after sharing a dorm with Harry for six years were used to a couple of nightmares, rolled over and went back to sleep. To Harry's horror, he realised his was crying, sobs wracked him silently as he looked down at his mattress, ashamed that Ron was seeing him like this.

But then Ron did a very un-Ron-like thing, a testimony to how the War had changed even him. After he had left them in the forest, and realised what he had done, he had vowed that he would never leave neither Harry nor Hermione again if they needed him. So he sat down next to Harry, whose head was bowed, leant over and pulled him into a gruff hug.

Harry was at first shocked, but he had always been better at expressing his emotions than Ron, and quickly returned the hug, collapsing against his friend's chest, still shaking a bit. Ron began to speak, awkwardly.

"It's-er-it's not your fault, mate."

Harry sniffed, "What?"

"I heard you before you woke up-you were-er-shouting, 'it's all my fault,' and-and it's not, okay?" Ron seemed desperate to get his point across, but couldn't quite manage the words. Therefore he was particularly relieved when he felt the younger, raven-haired boy, nod against his chest.

--

It was breakfast and Ron was telling Hermione about the night before whilst Harry caught up on lost sleep.

"So what did you do then?"

"I, erm, hugged him and told him it wasn't his fault."

Suddenly Ron found a set of arms around him and a set of lips on his. He emerged very red but grinning. A couple of Gryffindor boys who had been watching wolf-whistled and clapped.

"What was that for?" he asked, looking down into his cereal.

Hermione was breathless and pleased with herself, and, he could not help notice, not at all embarrassed. "For being so sweet. Honestly Ron, you should go around hugging other boys more often, it brings out the best in you," she said matter-of-factly, before returning to her breakfast. Ron almost choked at the thought of 'going around hugging other boys more often' but remained silent.

--

That day Harry found the whispering and staring and out-right admiration just as bad, and was relieved when they found a notice up on the wall in the Gryffindor common room that meant he would be able to get away from it for a little while. "Great, a Hogsmeade trip!" Ginny pointed out happily.

"I wonder why their having one so soon?" Hermione asked.

"It'll be to make up for lost ones I expect, they didn't have any last year, and hardly any the year before, right? I think they must think we deserve a trip out after all we've been through."

Later they took the broom out for a spin and discovered that it was no faster than a normal Cleansweep, without much surprise. Afterwards he, Ron and Ginny had flown round the pitch a couple of times in the shadow of the castle formed by the setting sun. Hermione had predicatively brought a book, and was quite happy sitting there for a couple of hours. When it got too dark to read or fly they headed back, still burningly curious about the broomstick and why Dumbledore could've thought Harry would need it.

Harry however, was also refreshed from the trip to the Quidditch pitch. It had been great it just being him and the air. No dreams to worry about, no staring or newspaper articles. Just the wind in his hair and the broom beneath him, that was where he felt most at home.

As a result of this he found himself on the pitch and on his broom frequently. In fact, any spare moment he got he could be found out there, practising particularly dangerous stunts or trying out moves he had found in Quidditch Weekly. Whilst his new-found obsession had caused speculation in the Daily Prophet about whether he was pursuing the career of a professional Quidditch Player, his friends and girlfriend were increasingly worried.

"There's got to be something wrong, all he ever does is fly on his own out there." This was only partially true, Harry was now followed reverently by a gaggle of admirers wherever he went and was therefore forced to ignore their presence whilst he zoomed up and down the pitch in his quest for solitude and peace. Ginny would have been jealous, if she didn't know Harry so well.

"He's obviously got something on his mind." Hermione speculated over her lunch, where Harry had quickly finished his meal and headed off to they-all-knew-where, swiftly followed by his entourage. Ginny sighed, "I'll talk to him, I'm his girlfriend after all, if he's going to confide in anyone I'm going to make it me."

Harry finished a particularly daring Wrongskei feint when Ginny strode across the pitch, recognising that red hair anywhere, he quickly came to ground. He pulled her into a hug that she returned with surprising force and caused a lot of muttering from Harry's onlookers.

He turned and glared at them (something that made Ginny feel warm inside) before facing her with a questioning look on his face. She bit her lip and then decided to take a more forceful approach. She hit him. Not hard, on the arm, but it was hard enough to make Harry jump with its unexpectedness. "What was that for?"

"For being do damn mysterious and making us worry about you." His brow crumpled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're spending every moment out here and not telling any of us why or why you've suddenly developed this taste for solitude. I'm your girlfriend, you're supposed to talk to me about stuff that bothering you."

He sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just been nice being able to (here he glanced at the group shadowing them) _almost _being able to get away from it all. I don't know why it's affecting me this much, I've dealt with worse, I just guess I had this whole idea about how this year was going to be and now can't get over the fact that it's nothing like how I planned."

Ginny felt a surge of sympathy for her boyfriend. Harry could never have life just as he wanted it-normal-and her heart throbbed for him. She wished desperately she could save him from his fame; somehow make him and everyone forget he was the boy-wonder, even if just for a day. Instead she didn't know what to say.

She kissed him instead. "Come to Hogsmeade with us this weekend, it'll be fun." He smiled a small smile at her and nodded as they made their way back up to the castle, in their own temporary bubble of happiness, oblivious to the students tailing them.

--

They wrapped themselves up against the cold September air as the four of them walked down to Hogsmeade. There were few students bothering to make the cold trip down to the little town as most of them were still too busy catching up with their friends about their summers.

Harry had decided that Dumbledore's gift might hold something he wasn't seeing and was going to post it to the Burrow to see if Arthur or maybe even Bill could come up with anything. Ron insisted however, that they visit Honeydukes first and after they had emerged from there, pockets bursting, they decided that they should get some butterbeers first before making their way to the other end of the town where the post office resided.

All agreed that this was all they really had time for as they had set out late as it was, held up by Hermione unable to find her purse and Ginny insisting on dropping off her Herbology essay before they left. It was for this reason that the sun was already low in the sky when they entered the warm and cosy pub.

Harry soon realised that his belief that the Hogsmeade trip would take his mind off his new persona as the saviour of the wizarding community was sadly mistaken. The reaction to his appearance was exactly like that at the station, as every conversation paused and every head turned towards him and his friends standing in the doorway. Harry felt very self-conscious and cursed himself for bringing along the big cumbersome broom-shaped package he now held in his hand, which probably only served to attract more attention.

Madame Rosmerta beckoned them over to the bar where she insisted they sat. Harry would much rather have sunk into the ground, or, using the best alternative, taken a seat at a table in a corner. His embarrassment and discomfort grew further when his money was refused and they were given four butterbeers on the house. He could feel the stares burning into the back of his neck and tried to ignore them.

"Well mate, we'll have to start taking you places more often if this how we're going to be treated." Ron tried to diffuse the sense of tension in the air with a lame joke, but Harry appreciated it all the same. Madame Rosmerta had started recounting some old stories, leaning across the bar to talk to them, though she really only seemed to have eyes for Harry.

"Oh, I remember when we used to have your father in here; he was handsome just like you, always cheeky with me, trying to get me to sell firewhiskey and that. And there was that gaggle of boys always with him. Sirius Black and him were thick as thieves and were just as troublesome at times."

Harry stared at her, the mention of his father and his dead friends was hardly serving to lift his spirits and yet he could not dispel the small sense longing he felt when their names were mentioned. It depressed him no end, but he still wanted to hear more.

"I always said to them, "I'll sell you some firewhiskey when you two befriend a werewolf and kill a vampire" they laughed no end at that." Harry glanced at Hermione in confusion, "It's an old wizarding expression," she explained, "And not exactly very appropriate anymore," she added in a disapproving voice under her breath.

"And he was always mooning after that Lily Evans. He always used to sit here 'why won't she go out with me Rosmerta?' he used to ask and I always used to say, 'She'll come round dear' and what do you know, one day he comes in here with huge grin on his face and says that she finally said yes. Beside the lake, he had been sitting in a tree and she had sat underneath it…or something like that and she had said yes.' I told him, Rosmerta always knows."

This was the first time Harry had heard how his parents had gotten together, the first time he had ever wondered about it if he was honest. The idea of his parents finally getting together at Hogwarts, being around his age, and having no idea that in a couple of years they would die to save him…their son sent pangs of sadness through his heart. He stared down into his butterbeer. After a couple more memories served up by Rosmerta they finished their drinks and headed outside. The group had fallen quiet, mostly watching for Harry's reaction.

"You guys head back, I'll just quickly go post this." He held up the wrapped up broom. The others looked between each other, and seemed to agree this was fine. He hated how they were always watching him, wondering what he was going to do next, he knew it was because they worried but it felt like they thought he was some kind of time-bomb that could go off any moment. "That's fine Harry, we'll see you there." They turned and disappeared into the darkness up the hill to Hogwarts.

Harry turned for the post office and realised with yet another plummeting of the heart that he would normally be attaching this package to Hedwig and a couple of other school owls. Suddenly he was angry, why did everything he did remind him of those that were dead because of him? He couldn't turn without being faced with memories of his father and his friends, the absence of a much loved pet, the reason for the sadness he always saw in Molly and Arthur Weasley's eyes, the missing twinkling eyes at the staff table at breakfast.

It was pretty dark by now, and the lights were beginning to dwindle as he left the centre of Hogsmeade. He muttered a spell under his breath, "_Lumos,"_ and saw his wand illuminate. He could not help but notice that the streets were eerily lacking in people now. He clutched the long package closer to him and peered around. There was a rustling behind him, and he spun around. Berating himself he turned back on his way, it was dark, he had heard a noise, how clichéd could things get? It was like a scene from a bad muggle horror movie.

That was when he saw the Deatheaters.

--

They were masked and their eyes were wild. There were half a dozen of them, bedraggled and filthy looking from their months on the run. They were clearly the worse for wear, but that did not mean they were unable to pin his arms behind his back, pulling him into a dark alleyway. One of them pulled out a wand and held it at his throat.

Harry could feel his heart beat with a familiar mixture of adrenaline and fear. His head was pulled back at the hair by one of them. "Finally!" One of hissed with triumph, they looked desperate and mad, haunted eyes suddenly filled with insane glee. The masked figure with their wand to his throat leaned closer. "My you do look like your father, don't you?" It seemed that they were confident enough to gloat before they killed him.

"That little set's finished now though isn't it? Daddy's dead, the wolf and the dog, and even that little worm-you almost did the dark lord a favour with that one." The eyes behind the mask glinted maniacally and the wand was dug into Harry's throat further. Harry's mind was working in overdrive, the Deatheaters were desperate and frantic, sure to make mistakes. He realised his legs were free and kicked out. Hard.

His foot connected with something vital and the wand at his throat was dropped with a howl as the hands holding him loosened with surprise. He wrenched his arms from the Deatheaters' grasps and made a dash for the end of the alleyway, where his dropped wand lay next to the broom, just in sight. He ducked red and green flashes of light as curses and unforgivables were shot after him.

He skidded to a halt as he reached the street he had been walking on, the footsteps of pursuit too close for comfort. Working on instinct he grabbed his wand off the pavement and jumped onto the broom. His mind only allowed one thought as he rose into the air and curses followed him: The thought of his father and the dead friends that the Deatheater had so easily mocked.

There was a loud BANG that reminded Harry of the night bus and the Deatheaters, the street and Hogsmeade disappeared.


	3. Pasts and Parents

**A/N: This is when it starts looking like the BTTF plot quite a lot (I love that film) but, for obvious reasons, not everything can be exactly the same. I've stolen quite a lot of lines from the film, just so you know. Please R&R P.S Sorry it took so long, I just started boarding at school and it takes a while to get things together.**

**Disclaimer: So you see class, that is logical proof of how I own Harry Potter and Back To the Future. What's that Miss Patil? I've never heard of this J.K Rowling of which you speak, do be quiet foolish girl. MR FINNIGAN! Don't make me come back there! **

**Ahem, I don't own anything ;) **

Pasts and Parents

Harry swerved to avoid the thick trunk of a tree that had suddenly appeared in front of him, right where the street of Hogsmeade used to be. Too busy trying to avoid immediate collision to wonder why he was now flying through a forest, Harry swivelled in a complicated pirouette-like movement, barely missing a looming branch.

There was a resounding _crunch_ as the tail of the broom hit something big and leafy Harry had not seen coming.

"Argghhh!" Well, he wasn't so much flying as falling now.

Thrown of balance by a tree clipping the end of the Cleansweep Harry found that he had lost control of the broom. He tried to regain direction to no avail as he now plummeted towards the ground, being flung into the surrounding trunks as he went. With a crack that did not bode well for Harry's already bruised chest, and an even more ominous noise from the broom, they collided with the forest floor.

The world seemed to spin as Harry dragged himself up from off of the ground only to groan at the sight of what was left of the broom, it couldn't have looked worse if the Whomping Willow had been at it. He began to take notice of his surroundings and the last few moments before he had found himself in a forest he did not recognise came back to him. He shuddered at the looming image of the Deatheater's that appeared in his mind's eye, and, knowing it was foolish even as he did so, glanced warily around himself for the masked wizards.

Utterly bewildered, and hoping against all that he was only dreaming, Harry decided that the best he could do was to find out where the hell he was. And as that was seemingly impossible, and Harry didn't know any spells that told you your location, he had to hope he had somehow only strayed a little off course and was not too far from Hogsmeade.

Not really believing this feeble hope, he pulled out his wand, placing it on his hand, and silently thanked Hermione for her help in his fourth year with the third task of the Triwizard Tournament as he muttered "_Point Me." _The Four-point spell did its job as his wand swivelled on his palm, and Harry knew that North was now to his left, he knew also that Hogsmeade was surrounded on it's north side by mountains and forest. So, assuming this was indeed that forest, he deduced desperately and not entirely surely, that Hogsmeade must be somewhere south of where he was. Setting off with determined mind Harry began to walk through the forest.

The sun was long risen, and Harry had long lost hope, by the time he reached the edge of the forest. He knew the forest did not span such a large area; at least, the one surrounding Hogsmeade never had, meaning he could not be where he had thought he was. However, with no other alternative, he had carried on trudging mindlessly to an unknown destination. The first sign of civilisation greeted him when he stumbled into a small town around lunch time.

It was not until Harry reached the centre of the town that he realised something was terribly wrong. Everyone's robes looked…odd, dated somehow, and if it wasn't for the shop signs and someone walking past reading the Daily Prophet, Harry would have thought he was in a different country. And then he noticed the date on the Prophet the stranger had walked past carrying.

With a growing sense of dread he sprinted bewilderedly up the street and was suddenly faced with a pretty explanatory sight.

--

Harry stood outside Honeyduke's; it was definitely Honeyduke's alright. And the village was definitely Hogsmeade, just the Hogsmeade of 1977. This he was helpfully told by the banner hung above the shop's window reading:

_**Winner of the 1977 Most Picturesque Wizarding Village Award! **_

Harry stumbled backwards, horrified. The broom must've taken him back in time, that's why Dumbledore must've left it to him-Why the hell would Dumbledore want to give him a time-travelling Cleansweep? He still felt like this was some far-fetched dream. Deciding he needed a good drink, Harry headed towards the familiar, if slightly newer, Three Broomsticks, still clutching the splinters of the broom.

He shuffled into the pub, feeling himself instinctively relax at the familiar atmosphere, wrong time perhaps, but the same place all the same. He sat down at the bar next to a boy about Harry's age in deep conversation with a much younger Madame Rosmerta. The boy ignored him, and Rosmerta barely glanced up as she handed him a Butterbeer. He took a sip, feeling the warmth seep down to his toes, which, with his aching feet and chest and chilling walk through the early hours of morning, was very welcome. Some things, at least, never changed.

"Why won't she go out with me Rosmerta?" the Hogwarts student sitting next to Harry moaned morosely, and Harry thought suddenly of Ginny. He felt a pang in his chest; he had to get back to her, somehow, as soon as possible-The Deatheaters! Harry had almost forgotten about them! They were still on the loose back in his time, what if they got into the castle? His stomach lurched at the thought of Hermione, Ron and Ginny in danger.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a very familiar voice sneering his name in a very familiar way. "_Potter_."

He swung around in his seat, only to see-

"_Severus?"_ Harry's dead potion's master was now striding towards him at the age of seventeen. But it was the boy sitting next to Harry that answered. "Well if it isn't _Snivellus," _Harry was wrenched from the tumult of emotions he felt on sight of the man he had once hated for so long and now only felt pity and (though he would never admit it) admiration for, by the voice behind him and the use of a nick-name that he had heard once in a memory.

Harry turned to see the boy sitting next to him and found himself looking in a mirror, except for his eyes and the lack of scar on his forehead the boy was identical to Harry, from his toes to his unruly jet-black hair. Harry realised with thudding heart he was looking at his father, James Potter.

"_Dad?" _he breathed, barely daring to believe it, and yet hoping against all hope it was true. This was different to any memory or dream; here Harry could actually reach out and touch him-

Which he had been in the process of trying to do before his father had jumped up off of his stool, wand in hand. "Still moping around after Evans, Potter? You're pathetic; she'd never touch a piece of filth like you." Severus Snape sneered in a tone he had once only reserved especially for Harry.

"I don't see you being particularly friendly with her recently Snivellus," James spat back.

"Call me that again!" Snape snarled pulling out his wand.

"I don't want any trouble boys," Rosmerta said sharply, Severus glanced at her and then back to James' drawn wand, and, seemingly thinking better of it, swept out of the pub. James sat back down with a heavy sigh, Harry gawped at him. James pulled a Butterbeer towards him and took a sip, Harry stared. James placed the drink back down and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up, Harry winced midway through gaping.

James suddenly swung towards him, "Can I help you?" he almost shouted, apparently unaware he was staring at a double of himself. Harry, despite being extremely disconcerted and almost scared out of his wits, felt like grinning, so this was what it was like to have your dad yell at you.

"Y-you're James Potter." He stuttered, still in the throes of amazement.

"Yes, I am, do you have a problem with that too? Because if you do-" James was interrupted from his rant by a crash of shattered glass. Madame Rosmerta had been busying herself behind the bar when she had turned to see the two boys talking to each other and dropped a glass in shock. She was now staring at them in amazement, and although James seemed oblivious of their resemblance Harry guessed that she, too, had noticed him and his father's eerie likeness.

But when Harry turned to see his father's-_James'-_ reaction, he found an empty stool and the sight of the raven-haired boy hurrying down the streets of Hogsmeade through the window.

"Hey! Wait!" Harry called after the quickly receding figure as he jogged after him, wand in pocket, remains of broom in hand and excitement in his heart. He would finally get to meet his father long enough to have decent conversation with him. Harry was determined not to let this opportunity pass.

He lost sight of James as he went through the Hogwarts gates and sped up to catch him, only to find that he couldn't see him anywhere in the grounds. With a frustrated sigh he kicked the ground and wondered how his father had got away from him so quickly. Harry thought he had learned pretty much every of Hogwarts secrets over the years, but his father had somehow eluded him, no doubt with a secret passageway he did not know of.

And then he saw a foot disappearing up into the branches of the big oak tree by the lake. Wondering what on earth his father was doing Harry hurried over. When he arrived at the tree however, all he could see was the faint outline of James sitting among the branches, leaning forward precariously and gazing at something on the other ground the other side of the tree.

Wondering what on earth would make James act so strangely, Harry rounded the trunk to find what he was so fascinated by. Leaning against the tree trunk sat a girl reading a book, her hair was thick and red and reminded Harry painfully of Ginny, and when she shook it off her face he was met with a pair of green almond-shaped eyes, the eyes of Lilly Evans.

Her face immediately twisted into a frown when she saw him, and she snapped her book shut in a very Hermione-ish gesture. "What do you want, Potter?" she glared at Harry, "Because if it has nothing to do with Head duties you can go and-" She was cut short from reprimanding a stunned Harry when they heard the ominous cracking of a branch above. Working on long-honed instincts and reflexes Harry leapt forward, pushing his mother out the way as James and the branch fell painfully on top of him.

James swore loudly, "Are you alright?"

"Don't be an idiot!" Harry could hear Lilly snapping back through a fog of pain and a bleeding nose, his glasses had smashed and everything was blurred. "Of course he's not alright, he's bleeding! And you've broken his glasses, oh, for Merlin's sakes, I thought he was you! What the hell were you doing up in that tree?"

Harry wriggled out from underneath the branch, imagining the shifty look now passing across his father's features, "I…er…I was just-" James struggled with an explanation. Harry listened to his parents argue.

"Well, that doesn't matter now!" Lilly interrupted him, "I'll take him to the hospital wing." Harry, who had had a lot worse, felt a little stupid having to go to the Hospital wing over something like a nosebleed. "No, it's fine, really." He muttered, as he tried regain some dignity and pulled out his wand, "_Accio glasses!_" he quickly repaired them and pushed them back onto his nose, getting a clear view of Lilly looking horrified and James, as he had imagined, rather shifty.

"Look, I'm really sorry, it was an accident…" Lilly rounded on him, "Shut up! And stay here." She pulled Harry to his feet and bit her lip at the sight of all the blood. Harry tried to look a little less horrifying, and tilted his head back pinching his nose to try and make the bleeding stop.

"At least come and sit in the common room, you _are_ in Gryffindor aren't you?" Harry nodded weakly, his nose throbbing as his mother led him up into the school.

--

"Really, it's fine, look, the bleeding's stopped now." Harry tried to reassure Lilly, who was looking as anxious as Hermione as she steered him into an armchair. Harry muttered "_Scourgify,_" and cleaned up his face as Lilly sat down next to him.

"I feel so bad that you got hurt saving me from that oaf, Potter." Harry could feel it making her slightly uncomfortable, but he couldn't stop staring at her, she was his mother, Lilly, young and vibrant and full of life…

She leant forward and he, not even realising it, leant in closer to her, he could smell her perfume and it stirred up distant memories of something. He smiled at her and she grinned back as he took in her features hungrily, unable to quite get over the fact that she was there, sitting right in front of him. "I…wanted to thank you," she grinned again shyly, "For-saving me, not everyone would have done that.

At this Harry couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh. That was him, Harry Potter with his infamous hero complex and his mother had picked up on it right away, he kind of liked that, like she already knew him. He found that she was blushing and looking at him with a curious look in her eyes. "I'm sorry; I didn't even catch your name."

Harry shifted uncomfortably and suddenly reality came crashing back down on him. He was in the _past_, Deatheaters were on the loose back in his time, he had to get back, he had to get back to Ginny and Ron and Hermione, they needed him, he needed to be around to save them…

Hero complex or not, Harry was working in overdrive, he jumped up, running a hand anxiously through his hair, "Is Dumbledore's office still in the same place?" he shot at Lilly who looked startled at this sudden outburst. "Yes, same place it always is," she answered, staring as he turned and sprinted back out the portrait hole.

--

The gargoyle was there, ugly and waiting as usual, and on this thought Harry hesitated, the last time he had been here he had been walking into Professor McGonagall's office, not that of the man who had been Harry's mentor and guide through the years, Albus Dumbledore. Now at the idea of meeting him again Harry wasn't sure he would be able to cope, sure he was happy that he was alive, that he could spend even a couple more hours with him, but he knew that the emotional repercussions might be something he would deeply regret. But knowing that Dumbledore was probably the only person in this time who could help him, the only person who could possibly believe his story, forced him to step forward and start guessing passwords.

On the muttering of 'fizzing whizbee' the gargoyle jumped out the way and Harry stepped onto the ascending staircase, heart thudding for what seemed like the hundredth time in two days as he prepared to knock at the door. As it was, Harry didn't even have time to take a breath before a voice answered as his knuckles made contact with wood. Harry's heart leapt when he heard the voice that he hadn't heard in a year and a half: "Enter."

"Ah, James, I would've thought that you'd be out in Hogsmeade with your friends at this time, something quite momentous must be bothering you if you're taking your time to visit me."

Harry walked up to the twinkling blue eyes, looked directly into them, and blurted it out. "I'm not James."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows fractionally, "Is that so?"

"Yes, my name-my name is Harry," said Harry, aware of how odd it was that Dumbledore of all people didn't know his name. The old wizard cleared his throat,

"If that is the case, I must apologise, you do bear a striking resemblance to a student here named James Potter, so you must forgive me my mistake. Perhaps you are a relative of his?" Dumbledore's eyes glanced over Harry, his messy hair, his slight seeker's build, they hesitated on his eyes and then lingered, the brow above them furrowing slightly, on the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Yes, we're definitely related," explained Harry, skirting around the subject, preparing Dumbledore for the blow he was about to deal. "You see, I'm his son."

At this Dumbledore could not hide his surprise, and his white eyebrows shot up. "Young man, you can't be more than nineteen, James Potter is, I believe, eighteen himself in a couple of months, what you're suggesting is quite impossible."

Harry nodded, "I know that, but," he hesitated, how to put this without sounding insane? There wasn't, he decided, "I came here on a time-travelling broom that you gave me."

As if this ridiculous statement was a cry for interruption, a knocking came from the door. Dumbledore stated admittance and James stumbled in, breathing heavily and looking very ruffled. He saw Harry, eyes darting between him and Dumbledore,

"So it is true!" Harry shuffled back as James advanced, looking distinctly annoyed, "Longbottom told me you were going to the Head's office," he turned to Dumbledore, who was watching the scene with something vaguely like bemusement,

"Professor Dumbledore, whatever he tells you, it was an accident, the branch snapped, I fell on him, I didn't mean to give him a nosebleed-"

"Mr Potter," Dumbledore began, and looked almost amused when both raven-haired boys turned to answer, "James, I am not aware of the incident you are referring to, and I assure you, Harry here had not come to tell me about it, but rather to divulge some other business he has with me."

James looked rather abashed, "Oh, err, sorry, I thought you were going to give me another detention, and you see, the match is coming up, I can't miss practice…" he trailed away and also began backing away slowly towards the door. Dumbledore smiled, "I wonder if you could wait outside until I've finished with Harry?" James nodded and practically ran out the door.

Dumbledore arched his fingers gravely, "If, young man, or Harry as you call yourself, you truly believe you time-travelled here I must suggest I let James take you to the Hospital Wing. You must have hit you're head when Mr Potter fell on you."

Harry understood, Dumbledore was trying to tell him very kindly that he thought he was deluded. He had been expecting this, and knew there was only a few ways he could prove that his story was true. Harry took a deep breath and began reciting things off the top of his head, "Your brother owns the Hogshead, you'll never forgive yourself for the death of your sister and you were the only teacher who didn't trust Tom Riddle when he went to school here, who later began to call himself Lord Voldemort."

Dumbledore was very solemn and his eyes had become serious. "There are very few people on this earth, let alone a student, who know these things. There are very few people of your age who feel prepared to speak the name of that particular dark wizard, and even fewer who know his original name that his mother gave him. I must conclude that either you are Deatheater in disguise sent by Lord Voldemort or that your story is indeed true."

Harry smiled in relief, "You have to help me get back, you left-gave-me the broom, you must know how it works, you see, just before I left these Deatheater's attacked me in Hogsmeade which means they're somewhere on the loose, my friends are in danger, I have to get back and warn them."

Dumbledore was looking at him oddly, "I take the mention of Deatheater's to mean that this war stretches to your time, and that Voldemort is still at large." He sounded sorrowful and Harry stumbled, it had not occurred to that this was what the Dumbledore of Voldemort-filled 1977, would've assumed.

"No, no, after he loses all his powers, and then comes back I-"

"Stop, Harry, if you have indeed arrived here via time-travel I must insist you divulge no more of the future."

Harry stared at him "But if I tell you, you can defeat Voldemort and none of it has to happen," he started with dawning hope as he realised what this meant, no-one had to die, Fred, Tonks, Remus and Sirius, Dobby, Cedric and Dumbledore and his parents… "We can save them all, you just-"

"Stop Harry," Dumbledore ordered firmly, he was looking at Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles with a mixture of pity and pain, "We cannot tamper with time, however things happened, happened that way for a reason, to alter the course of time means altering the future, and we do not know what events such an act would cause. It is too dangerous, we are dealing with things even I cannot understand."

At this Harry felt the deep plummet of disappointment, but however much he had doubted Dumbledore in his year on the run, the force of his trust in the professor was now doubled. Harry had lost all resentment for Dumbledore when he had defeated Voldemort, and come to understand things that had long been beyond his grasp.

"Yes, Professor." Harry mumbled into his lap and looked away.

"I'm sorry Harry, I truly am, we all wish that we could turn back time and change the things we regret." Harry saw the remorse in the blue eyes and knew that Dumbledore meant this more than most people.

"Now, then, I think it is best, that you show me this broom you travelled here on, that I apparently gave you?" Harry nodded and then clapped his hand to his forehead.

"Oh no! I left the remains of it back at the lake, I dropped them to save my moth-I mean, Lilly from getting hit by the branch and James."

Dumbledore peered at him shrewdly, "Am I to assume that you have met both your parents already?" Harry nodded yet again, this time embarrassed that he had covered it up so feebly.

"Ah, I thought I recognised some of your features from somewhere. You have your-"

"-mother's eyes, I know." Harry finished, now all too aware of the truth in these words. Dumbledore smiled, "I assume you have people telling you that frequently."

Harry nodded and thought of the many people who had noticed the resemblance over the years, one of them had been Remus, he remembered sadly. He was snapped back from his sorrowful reminiscing by Dumbledore standing up with a sweeping of his robes. "Now, if we shall get back to business, there seems to be a time-travelling broom in the grounds and I wouldn't want any of my _current _students from straying into the effects its magic.

Harry shrugged, "I wouldn't expect it's much use now, when I arrived here I had a bumpy landing, it's almost completely broken to bits."

Dumbledore tugged lightly on his beard in thought, "That might prove a problem, however, it is perhaps wise if we collect the remains of the broom anyway."

But when they got to the bottom of the staircase James was there waiting for them with an anxious and puzzled look on his face. "Ah, James, I'm sorry for the inconvenience but it appears we are no longer in need of your services, do go join your friends." James stared at the pair, stunned, as they walked past and descended the steps towards the great hall and the front doors of the school. He was left wondering what on earth that had been about, what pressing business the black-haired boy could have with Dumbledore and why the boy seemed so at ease with a rather intimidating not to mention world-renowned wizard he had only just met.

**A/N: Mwahahaha! Next chapter we get to see some great Harry/ Marauder interaction, not to mention maybe some…erm…interesting moments with Lily, when I get to wreak a little havoc. **

**Writing the Harry/Dumbledore stuff was quite hard, you have to remember that Dumbledore has absolutely no idea Harry is boy wonder of the world or his mentor in the future. **

**I will also probably write a few scenes where Harry will get show off how cool he is!! Not that he would ever think that…just me…R&R, peace out and HARRY RULES!! :) **


	4. Friends and Foolery

The grounds were thrown in a dappled grey light, the sun shining feebly through the turbulent clouds that scudded across the s

A/N A big thank-you to shizzler for adding in a WHOLE SENTENCE!! Woo for her…and to the places I sat while I wrote this: Up on the dark balcony whilst I helped with the lighting for the Year 7 Play (Shizzler's moment to type on my laptop while I wasn't looking), down by the lake in my school grounds, in my dorm in the heights of the West Wing and out front by the playing fields where I sat by my very own 'old oak tree' and imagined the marauders meeting Harry there…

Written to the soundtrack of Elizabeth Town Volume 1

('It'll all work out' is one of my favourites on there)

The grounds were thrown in a dappled grey light, the sun shining feebly through the turbulent clouds that scudded across the sky. Harry swiftly led Dumbledore through the mingling students, from whom they receive odd and curious stares (James must REALLY be in trouble this time if Dumbledore was involved) until he reached the old oak tree and the splintered remains of the broom lying forlorn and abandoned at its feet.

Dumbledore took each fragment from Harry as he picked them up, examining them with intense curiosity. Each time Harry glanced at the old wizard he felt a tightening in his heart, the thought that he could somehow still spend time with a man he had thought in all ways lost to him was playing havoc with his emotions, his instincts and ethics. The additional problem that Dumbledore had almost no idea who he was was also painful and added another element of complication to the turmoil of confusions swirling within him.

Dumbledore looked up and caught Harry staring at him wistfully and with such a twisted expression on his face that for a perceptive wizard such as himself it must've been like reading an open book. Harry quickly looked away from his intense stare and felt the heat rising to his face. When he dared return his eyes to Dumbledore, however, the man was still examining the splinters.

Suddenly, when Harry had collected all the wood off the ground, Dumbledore turned and began marching quickly towards the doors of the school, leaving Harry to tag along behind him. "What is it? What have you thought of?"

Dumbledore glanced at Harry, and Harry, for the first time, realised he was the same height as Dumbledore. He had grown a lot in the last summer, in many ways, and again he felt a strange sense of emotions when he realised that in his time Dumbledore would never be able to see Harry in this way, as a man.

"The design, from what I can muster, is quite ingenious and, if you'll forgive me my sense of self-confidence, almost certainly of my future-self's design. More importantly, my all-too-near future-self."

Harry translated what he was saying, "So, you-you _will_ invent this thing pretty soon? That's-what-good or bad?"

"Oh, it is a very useful thing. If I possess similar knowledge to when I create this thing as I do now, then the chances are I will be able to decipher its workings. Now," Harry soon realised that they had re-entered Dumbledore's office while they had been talking. "When I gave you this broom, I gave you no indication as to why I wanted you to have it?" Harry shifted uncomfortably, how to explain that when he had received the broom Dumbledore was already dead?

"Um, someone else gave it to me, on your orders, you told them to do it in-in a letter."

Dumbledore gazed at him, "And there were no circumstances in your time that you can imagine that you would require it? For example, to escape the death-eaters you mentioned?"

"No, you-you couldn't possibly have known about that and besides, you would have given me something more useful, surely? Something that transported me, but not back in time?"

Dumbledore nodded, "A wise point. Very well, may I assume this was the first time you used the broom?"

"Err, no, when I first got it, I was trying to work out why it might be special, so I tried it out on the quidditch pitch with my friends, nothing happened, it flew like any other old cleansweep."

"So what would differentiate that flight from yours later I wonder? Maybe it is activated by a situation of danger, perhaps?"

Harry scoured his mind for any kind of clue to the answer of this question, and then, it came to him. "That's it! When they attacked me one of the Death eaters mentioned my father and his friends, and I must have been thinking of them when I got on the broom! That would make sense, as I wasn't thinking of anyone or thing from a different time the first time I rode it and then…and then it transported me to exactly the same spot but in 1977, but I thought I'd gone somewhere different because Hogsmeade is a lot bigger in my time and the forest must get smaller in the future as the town spreads out."

Harry grinned triumphantly, the familiar feeling returning to him, mirroring the many times he, Ron and Hermione solved a mystery. At the thought of his friends his heart sank again. And Dumbledore, who had been listening intently to Harry's thoughts with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, set the broom's remains down onto his desk with a sigh.

"I'm afraid, that however lucky the proximity of your arrival here to my original invention of this broom, it will still take time to devise its workings and repair it. I am, of course, anxious to return you as soon as possible, each moment you spend back in this time you risk chance of upsetting what is known as the space-time continuum. Having said that, I can only conclude that it may take weeks, even months, to rectify the broom"

Harry, jumped up, outraged, "Weeks? Months? Professor, I can't stay here that long! I have friends back in my time! I have a girlfriend! You can't do this to me!" Dumbledore looked at Harry over his spectacles sadly, "A girlfriend? Is she pretty?"

Harry calmed down at this unusual question and sat down abruptly, leaning forward across the desk imploringly, "She's beautiful Professor, we're crazy about each other."

He tugged a photo out of his pocket that had been resting in there for a while; it showed a young man with messy black hair and green eyes, sitting by the school lake accompanying a girl with fiery red locks. The wind was ruffling their hair and they took it in turns to laugh at the camera-man before turning to kiss each other, making whoever was holding the camera jerk it in shock, or perhaps protective big-brother anger. Harry flashed it at Dumbledore before shoving it back in his robes.

"See? You see what you're keeping me from? My life was just about getting back on track; I thought, stupidly, I can see _that_ now, that everything might actually be alright. And now you're telling me I'm stuck here?!"

At Harry's heated outburst several of the portraits of the old Headmaster's on the wall had 'awoken' from their usual feigned slumber and were muttering under their breaths indignantly about impertinent young men from the future. Harry span round and glared at them. This was it wasn't it? This was the next thing that was going to almost destroy him, not Voldemort or any Death Eaters, but the constant inescapable mess that was his life. Wherever he went he was stalked by trouble, danger and risk of losing those he loved. Misunderstanding, rumours and rejection seemed to dog his every step and everything normal, peaceful and average shied away from him.

He felt the anger rise inside him that he hadn't felt in so long, the rage that he could never control. Mimicking each hurdle life threw at him it would come when he least expected, when he finally thought that all his battles had been won, his demons all defeated and his fears overcome. Harry stood; fist clenched to his sides, and fought back a bitter laugh. Yes, the bitterness had returned, triggered by the unchanging everyday unfairness that was part of his life, coursing through his veins. The bitterness of spending his life fighting death away from himself and those that surrounded him, that and the misery of having to be the person he was born as.

Then as quickly as it had come it fell away, leaving him with nothing more than a sense of loss and the thudding of his heart in his chest, suddenly he realised his hand, no longer clenched at his side, was clutching one of the spindly tables which held one of the many peculiar instruments that Dumbledore decorated his office with. Dumbledore was gazing at him intensely, and Harry swiftly removed his hand.

"Sorry," Harry looked at his feet and sat back down in front of his professor, realising that the future Dumbledore, who knew Harry, would try to justify his behaviour. Whereas the Dumbledore of the past would view his actions as nothing but extremely rude and verging on the violently insane.

"Sometimes," Harry explained hesitantly, "I find it hard to control my temper."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows; "You seem to have mastered it quite well in this instance."

"Yeah," Harry rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and for one split second forgot that this man had no idea who he was, "I thought it would probably be best if I didn't smash up your office_ again_."

The old wizard sat back and contemplated this for a moment, until Harry realised his mistake, "I mean…err…you wouldn't-" But the white-haired man interrupted him,

"No, clearly." He paused for so long a time that Harry wondered whether he was supposed to answer this when- "You're a very interesting young man, Harry, and though I know you can tell me nothing of the future, I think there is a lot more to your situation then you let on." Harry had no idea what to say to this, so he remained silent.

"Well," Dumbledore clapped his hands together and his mood changed as quickly as Fawkes spontaneously combusting, "we can't have you hanging around here until we find out a way to get you home, and it seems James and Lily have mistaken you for a new student, I'm sure they'll wonder what has happened to you if you suddenly disappear. Therefore I suggest you masquerade as a student for now. It should not be too hard as this was your school, I presume, just in a different time."

"But…but…what will…how…" Harry was overwhelmed, pretending to everyone, his parents, lying to them about himself, for maybe even months? How would he manage it? But then the face of his father swam to mind, and he remembered the smell of his mother's perfume, maybe a few months couldn't hurt…

Harry nodded frantically, "Yes, I'm sure I'll cope."

"However, I must stress upon you Harry, as you no doubt already realise, the dire importance that you neither mess with time nor that anyone find out your true origins. To everyone you must appear a student who has transferred last minute. Try to avoid contact with anyone you are connected to in the future, it may seem a cruel request and a lonely existence, but if you do not follow these instructions, you may very well not _have_ an existence."

Harry nodded again in agreement, his insides already squirming with a strange confliction of guilt and comforting familiarity at lying to Dumbledore. He already knew he could not keep Dumbledore's promise, how could he live in a time when his parents were alive and not try and find everything out possible about them? It couldn't be done. Harry's headmaster, however, would of course not realise Harry's desperate need to spend time with his parents. He wouldn't know that Harry had only spent one precious year on earth with them, which he could barely remember. He would not know that they would die to save their son from a man already at large in the world.

"And which house would you like to be in, Harry?"

"Gryffindor." He answered without thinking.

Dumbledore smiled, "I thought you might be from that house, both your parents are, after all, in Gryffindor. However," the wizard paused thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes, "I thought possibly…Slytherin might have suited you, you seem to have, if you'll forgive, a certain sullenness and complication to you that can often be found in members of Salazar's house."

Harry was astounded that he had picked up on it so soon, having only just 'met' him, Dumbledore had picked out a section of Harry's more protected secrets, one that the white-haired professor should not find out about for years. "The sorting hat did consider it, sir, but Gryffindor was the house were my parents were-are currently-in, I suppose it made sense to the hat that I would want to be there."

"Very well, I'm sure, Harry, for however long a period, you have some settling in to do, you will need clothes, of course, and books, I can supply those, for now you are dismissed, it is the weekend, go make yourself at home." Harry was at the door when Dumbledore next spoke, "I will try my best, however Harry, to get you back to your real home."

--

The light breeze rustled the tree's leaves outside, and their shadows shifted in shape accordingly. The steps of the schools flew from beneath Harry's feet as he scanned the grounds for his father or mother. Catching no sight of them he wandered towards the lake and the old oak tree he had his recent encounter with, when he heard a bark of laughter, all too familiar, carried to his ears by the wind.

He knew that laugh, he immediately realised as he sprinted towards the tree and the figures lounging against it, finding himself met with an unbelievable sight.

"Hey, prongs, what's the hurry? You take off in Hogsmeade and don't feel like bothering with wishing your dear friends a farewell?"

Harry looked into the dark eyes of a young and handsome Sirius Black, there was mirth in his eyes and he was unmarred by the horrors of Azkaban, Harry was stunned by how free his always mentally and physically scarred godfather now was. Next to him with book in hand was Remus, tired as always, already exhibiting flecks of grey in his hair. He did not bother to look up at Sirius' greeting. And finally, podgy, small and made to look even more inadequate next to the intelligence of Lupin or the handsomeness of Black, Peter Pettigrew.

Harry stared at them, the intense sadness mixed with his hatred for the rat Pettigrew threw up a desperate struggle within him, until he realised that they were all staring back, looking rather worried.

"Hey, James, did you hear me? Are you okay?"

Harry snapped out of it, he couldn't afford to have a crisis right now, at least not _right_ now, in front of them all. "Yeah. I'm fine." He muttered reflexively.

Sirius smiled in relief, jumped up and flung his arm around Harry's neck. "Good, cause for a second there it looked like you had seen-"

"Look," began Harry, interrupting him, "I'm not who you think I am." Remus pricked up his ears at this, and glanced up from his book, "Oh, yeah?" Sirius smiled, apparently thinking he was going along with some joke of James'.

"No, you _really_ don't get what I'm saying, my name is Harry, I'm a transfer student here, I just happen to look a whole lot like your friend James, trust me, I've already met him. I get why you're confused." It surprised him how easily the lies sprouted from his mouth, but then again, Harry had always wanted to be someone who wasn't-well-_Harry_, maybe this was his chance.

They all gawped at him like they thought he was insane, Sirius slowly removed the arm from around his neck. "I don't understand," said Peter, screwing up his face.

"Hey, you're just making a really bad joke, right?"

Harry looked around at their expectant faces and felt the glimmer of longing in his heart. A flicker of, for once, not having to _try_ to get people to think he was normal, and before he could help it, he nodded.

"Yeah, you guys are crazy gullible, I sprout a few lines about calling myself Harry and you fall for it? That's hilarious." Harry shook his head, grinning, and fell down against the tree trunk, next to Remus, glancing at the book he was reading. Immediately he jerked it out of his hands and laughed, "What is it with bookworms and this book, eh, Moony?"

He chucked _Hogwarts: A History_ lazily to Sirius, internally shocking himself with so easily he absorbed the role of his father. "Let me guess, this has to be, like, the hundredth time you've read it?"

Remus released a small smile and nodded. "You wouldn't believe the stuff they've got in there, all these legends about the school, like the 'chamber of secrets.'" Harry choked back a laugh, and when they all glanced at his oddly he spluttered, "But that's just a story right, no-ones actually found it? I mean come on, who would believe that Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber and imprisoned some evil monster in it?"

_Certainly not me until I saw it with my own eyes,_ he thought to himself. But Remus narrowed his eyes at him, "Since when did you know about that?" Harry shrugged, covering up his mistake, and slapped Remus playfully on the back,

"Come on, Moony, living with you means I'm going to pick up some of the boring rubbish you spout sooner or later." He grinned at Sirius, hoping this was the kind of thing James would say. Apparently, according to his laid back grin, it was.

"You're hair is looking a little flat, Prongs." Peter pointed out, Harry's hand travelled instinctively to his hair, which was as tangled and unruly as ever and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to ruffle up his hair like his father did. Instead he patted it a bit and drew his hands back down to his sides, hoping the rest of them wouldn't notice. But Sirius eyed him thoughtfully, "You didn't do it properly, here, let me help."

"No, Padfoot, I-" But Sirius had already launched himself at Harry, wrestling him to the ground and placing him in a headlock, he shoved a fist into Harry's hair and started mussing it up, laughing his bark-like chuckle all the while. "No, come on Sirius," Harry begged between choked sobs of laughter, "Let go, I'm serious-"

"What did you just call yourself?" Sirius asked in mock offence, which made Harry laugh even harder-

"What the hell is going on here?!"

They all turned to see the real James Potter staring at the scene in disbelief, Sirius dropped Harry from his hold. Remus looked between the two almost-identicals in surprise. "James?" Peter peered closer to the standing figure.

"Yes, it's me, who the hell else would it be Wormtail?!"

"Then who in the name of Merlin's flowery boxers are _you?_" The Marauders, now complete, turned to glare accusingly at Harry, who knew there was only one way out of this where he didn't come off as a complete lunatic, and he burst out laughing, it was, anyway, quite funny.

"Oh my god! You totally fell for it!" He rolled about on the floor, choking out words between bursts of laughter. "You-r-really…thought I was…James, the _looks_ on your faces!" Suddenly they all caught on.

"Wow, that has to be, like…the best prank EVER!" Sirius punched the air, "Seriously, that was genius!"

James shook the outraged look from his face and began chuckling as well, "That _was_ pretty good for a newbie," he admitted.

"Pretty good? That was awesome!" Peter chimed in.

"You fooled me," Remus shrugged.

"Sorry," Harry chuckled, finally pulling himself off from the ground, wiping a tear of mirth away from his eye, "Payback for earlier, you know."

"Payback? Prongs, who is this guy?"

"Um…I'm not entirely sure…someone I gave a nosebleed falling out of a tree, that's for sure."

Harry stood and stuck out his hand, "Harry. Harry, err, Granger." He would have preferred Weasley, but they were already around. James shook his hand, "I guess now we're even, huh?" he asked hopefully, Harry grinned and nodded, resisting the urge to grab his dad and give him a big old hug.

"You a transfer here, Harry?" Remus asked interestedly.

"Yep, you guy's thought I was James and I just couldn't resist."

"No wonder, you guys look exactly alike, what are the chances?"

James looked Harry up and down, "Hey, you do look kind of like me, except your eyes are green."

"What house are you in Harry?" Peter asked, Harry again resisted an urge, this time to punch him.

"Uh, Gryffindor."

"I knew it!" exclaimed Sirius, "No-one who pulled a prank that good could belong anywhere else."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it, it was a good a joke, enough already!" cried James in mock despair as Sirius jumped up, bouncing on the balls of his feet energetically. Remus, sensing this was their moment to leave also levered himself up and brushed the grass of his robes before offering a hand to a struggling Peter. "Come on, Harry, we'll show you around the house, I guess you'll be in our dorm."

"Thanks, that would be great, although I already saw the common room when Lily took me up there."

They all insisted that they showed the new boy the dorm anyway, Remus hoped he wasn't too boisterous, he didn't think he could take another James or Sirius, Harry however, despite his initially very James and Sirius-like prank seemed more subdued than his other friends. As always, the mention of Lilly Evans' name had caused James' head to shoot up and he had exchanged looks with Sirius. Walking up to the castle the young werewolf heard the two of them muttering together: "-did you hear the way he called her Lilly? He's already on a first name basis with her!"

"Relax, Prongs, _you're_ the one who always calls her Evans."

Harry sped up and started walking beside him, Remus could not help but notice the calculating glances Harry kept on throwing at him. "So," he grinned finally, and looked so much like James it was scary, "When's the next full moon? I've kind of lost track of time at the moment."

The moment he had said it Harry looked horrified with himself but the surge of fear that was now sweeping through him meant that Remus did not notice. "How should I know?" he snapped, speeding up his step, trying to somehow escape this danger coming so unexpectedly.

"I, um, really like astronomy," Harry said quickly, looking slightly hurt by the unfriendly way Remus had responded and he immediately felt guilty, "And I saw you reading the book and I thought you seemed like the kind of person who would know about stuff like that-sorry if I was making assumptions."

Remus internally sighed in relief, "No, no, that's fine; I'm just a bit tired, sorry. I think the next full moon is in a couple of weeks."

Harry grinned again and slapped Remus on the back, "Thanks Moony." But as the new student went to go chat to Sirius, only one thought ran through Remus' mind, how in the name of Merlin had Harry known his nick-name? And come to think of it, he had called Sirius Padfoot too hadn't he?

High above the grounds and the boys walking towards the school, up in the turrets of the tallest towers of the castle, someone watched them. There were many questions in his mind too, a burning curiosity and yet a wariness that wisdom enforced in him. It seemed it would take more than a warning to keep a teenage boy from his parents and in truth, he couldn't say he was surprised, he just prayed that time was not so easily altered. With a worried sigh he turned from the window, many things in life are best left unexplained, including perhaps, the strange new addition to Gryffindor house. Walking up the school steps, Harry could have sworn he heard a Phoenix cry from distant heights.

A/N: Argggh! This is so insulting! 31 e-mails in my inbox and not ONE of them from fan-fiction! Please, PLEASE, find it in your heart to write even the shortest of reviews before I collapse sobbing at the evidence coming at me from all directions screaming of my incompetence as a writer! In short: REVIEW or I may never write again, (this is of course a lie; I could never ignore my twisted plot bunnies that long!) But review any way!


	5. Tests and Telling Tales

**A/N: Thanks everyone for your comforting reviews, I have calmed down a bit now, sorry, online breakdowns are never pretty. (LOL) Well done for staying with me for this long. **

**Hobesan: Yeah, it's kind of fun (though often tortuous) coming up with the parallels. My sister is sick of me suddenly yelling out statements in the middle of meals like: Of course! The Argentineans can be DEATHEATERS! Heh. Writers' epiphanies always seem to be dreadfully loud… **

**Disclaimer (in the form of song): I don't own Harry! I don't own zilch! But I don't need any rights to write this fic! Someone might sue, that'd be quite cruel, but this might just save your life…That's the power of a disclaimer! **

**Um…if that was too random for some folks, it was supposed to be to the tune of The power of Love. Ignores awkward silence coming from weirded out readers and carries on writing **

**P.S -- means a break in the writing and / a change in perspective, it'll be pretty obvious whose it is.**

Telling Tales and Tests

Harry fell into bed with a reluctant sigh, he couldn't help but feel that this was still all a dream, and that the moment he fell asleep he would awake back in his own time. It was all too fantastic to believe, but then again, it was the same with every new thing he learnt about the wizarding world as he had grown up through Hogwarts.

Dumbledore had, predicatively, already thought of all Harry's needs, and a trunk full of robes, school books and equipment had already been left for him on his bed. It had been a long day and the shock of being left in time with his parents and the Marauders seemed surreal next to the quiet of the dorm where the boys now all lay asleep. If he pulled the drapes around him, Harry could easily imagine the bodies in the beds belonged Seamus, Dean and Neville, and that the chainsaw like snore coming from Sirius' direction were those of Ron.

He had stayed in the common room longer than any of the other boys, claiming he had wanted to have a look through some of his school books before he started lessons tomorrow, after the initial jokes about Remus' having found a kindred spirit they had let him be. But instead Harry found himself gazing into the flames of the common room fire wondering at the situation he had found himself in, in a world full of those dead and gone, and they didn't even know who he was.

It was typical; after all, Harry could rarely find anything to work in his favour. Time shifted, people changed, horrific deeds were reversed until that had not even yet happened, but Harry Potter was always in the same situation. One that was painful, challenging and where everyone expected him to act normal and get along with being the 'saviour of the world,' the infamously deranged attention-seeker or the happy-go-lucky famous Boy Who Lived, and these were only three of the stereotypes that people viewed him through.

Except that this time no-one new who he was. There would be no expectations, no stares or whispers, only a blank slate and perhaps…freedom? Maybe he _could_ work this in his favour. He could be whoever he wanted to be in this time, a normal, nineteen-scratch that, he was supposed to be seventeen-year-old boy, coming to school, and hoping to make friends, get good grades and certainly not have to worry about evil dark lords after him and everything and one he held dear. No-one to save,

well, for a while anyway, safe in the certainty that everybody, despite the impending doom he knew history was about to deal, was not about to die today or the next.

It might've been crazy and illogical but there was something redeeming in the thought that all those that Harry had been unable to save, the deaths and the responsibility of them which piled on top of his heart like lead weights, seemed to be, if only temporarily, relieved. Everyone here was alive and kicking, or hadn't even started kicking yet, he knew that no-one in his time had blamed him for the deaths he had caused; but now that he was faced with the prospect of a world where none of those lives had even ended could Harry find it in his heart to stop blaming _himself? _

Anyone who has ever lost someone they loved will always say they would give almost anything just to spend another hour with them. Wasn't that what Harry was now faced with? A second-shot, or at least a chance to gain redemption, to ask forgiveness in a way, knowing the future and what it held couldn't he now appreciate every minute he had as time speeded towards that inevitable end for those that now surrounded him?

Without even bothering to get undressed Harry closed his eyes, with a feeling of, (could it be possible?) peace fluttering faintly in his chest. He listened to the steady breathing coming from the other beds and reminded himself that he was not surrounded by Seamus, Dean, Ron and Neville; he was listening to the slumber of his father and his friends.

--

The sun streamed through the drapes of Harry's bed and he stirred with a groan, something was lying on top of him…something heavy…slowly he opened his eyes and wondered groggily, for an instant, why there was a mirror hanging above him.

Then his reflection spoke.

"HARRY! WAKE UP! IT'S A BRAND NEW DAAAAAY! YOUR FIRST DAY AT HOGWAAAAAARTS!"

"Oh God." Harry moaned and tried to burrow back into his duvet, the Marauders weren't having any of it.

"Up, Granger!" Sirius threw open the drapes of Harry's four-poster and ripped his bed covers from his grasp, thrusting Harry, like a disgruntled new-born, into the land of the awake.

"Do you mind?" Harry asked indignantly, secretly revelling in the feeling of having his Dad and Godfather wake him up, "I could've been sleeping in the nude for all you knew."

Sirius blinked for a second, trying to work out if he was joking or not, and when Harry grinned he barked out a laugh. "That would've been an interesting start to the day, to say the least." Remus and Peter joined the growing crowd on Harry's bed, apparently all the Marauders wanted to wish the new boy good morning.

"What's our policy on nudity again? I forget, we do have so many 'policies.'"

"Remus, Remus, Remus," Sirius shook his head pityingly, "Peter: nudity?"

Peter suddenly went pink at being thrust into the spot light, "Uh, erm…nudity is…bad?" he stammered.

"Bingo!" cried Sirius, "Dancing in your nuddy-pants is a no-go, unless on the victim of a prank."

"Or if you're Lil-"

"-As stimulating as this conversation on nakedness has been, I would like some breakfast." Harry quickly cut in, a little perturbed that he had just heard his godfather use the phrase 'nuddy pants' and trying to block out any thoughts about why James now had a look on his face that said he was fantasising _something_.

Chucking his robes that he had fallen asleep in into a crumpled heap on the floor and pulling on a clean set from his new trunk they headed down to breakfast.

--

A younger McGonagall handed Harry his new timetable and he was glad to see that after an initial surprise when she registered his appearance (made all the more potent by the fact that James was sitting next to him, shovelling down bacon) she resumed her familiarly stern expression that he had grown to know so well.

At first glance Harry was bound to groan when he saw that he had double potions first thing, as usual, with the Slytherins, until he realised that although he would be sharing the dungeons with Snape the hooked-nosed man would not be in the position of power. "Who teaches potions?" he asked, knowing very well the answer.

"Old Slughorn, he's not bad, even if he is head of Slytherin, you wouldn't expect it to look at him. I mean, you'd think he would favour his own house all the time, being a natural Slytherin, but it's not like that." Sirius explained through a mouthful of toast.

"That's not to say he doesn't have his favourites," added James darkly.

"The Slug Club" murmured Peter.

"Professor Slughorn likes to collect people he believes are worth something, those with particular talents or important connections and tends to pay special attention to them. Needless to say he has a made lot of important friends in past Slug Club members." Remus had bothered to look up from the Daily Prophet to explain this to Harry before returning to its printed pages. However, Harry already knew all of the information they had given him, having been a rather reluctant member of the Slug Club himself almost two years ago.

"Aren't any of you in it?" he asked, slightly surprised, he was sure that Remus, James and Sirius had all been talented wizards in one way or another.

"Well, he bugged Remus for a while cus' he's so good at school work and stuff, but you having any of it, were you Moony? He gave up after the first couple of years. And he wasted about two minutes with me before he realised that my 'prestigious' family have practically disowned me."

"So does he like _anyone_ from Gryffindor?" Harry asked, trying to steer the conversation towards his mother and, sure enough, it worked.

"Sure, he absolutely loves Lilly Evans; she's a whiz at potions, even better than Remus." Harry noticed that Remus' expression didn't alter in the slightest at this information; he obviously didn't see his good grades in subjects as a competition, whereas Hermione would probably have been frowning and flicking her bushy hair by now if someone had made such a comment. It happened every time someone pointed out she was rubbish at flying, which was nearly always Ron.

"You alright Harry?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I'm just missing my friends, that's all," he said truthfully.

"Yeah? Where'd you go before here?" James asked curiously.

"Um," luckily Harry had thought about this before hand, he couldn't say he'd gone to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons, the only other wizarding schools he knew, because he knew hardly anything about the places, so he opted for the only other choice. "I was home schooled; but there were a bunch of other kids in my area that were the same, we used to hang out all the time."

"Huh, that's cool, I always thought that home schooling would be really boring but if you had a bunch of kids doing the same thing I guess it wouldn't be so bad." Sirius said thoughtfully.

"Why'd you transfer so late?" Remus shot another question,

Harry shrugged, the question didn't bother him, "My guardians thought it would be best if I experienced a school before I finished my education, you know, to get an idea of the environment most witches and wizards come from."

"Makes sense."

But James and Remus were looking at him strangely; it was his father that voiced the question, "Your guardians? What about your parents?"

He had planned to be as truthful as possible when coming up with a story; it would make things less complicated, "My parents died when I was really little, in a…car accident."

The awkward silence that followed is familiar to every teenager whose new friend has just made a rather personal announcement. "Um, I'm sorry Harry." The Marauders were all suitably subdued.

"Don't worry about it; it happened a long time ago."

"Who are your guardians then?" Peter asked tentatively,

Although Harry had been living at the Burrow for the last summer, not quite being able to bring himself to face 12 Grimmauld Place quite yet, he replied with the answer that made the most sense according to his story.

"With my Mum's sister and her family, they're muggles, so my friend's Dad taught me all the magic I know."

"Wow, that's a weird upbringing, what's your aunt's family like?"

"They hate magic, and were pretty happy when I spent most of my time around my friend's house, I guess that was part of the reason they wanted to pawn me off to Hogwarts."

"Thank god you're not a fully fledged muggle-born," said Sirius and Harry couldn't believe his ears, did his godfather just make a racist comment?

"And why is that?" asked Harry through gritted teeth, feeling anger and confusion begin to bubble up inside him.

"I don't think we could take another disco fan, muggle fads are seriously weird." Immediately Harry's anger disappeared and he laughed, "Nope, no disco fans here, but my cousin loves the stuff." An image suddenly floated into Harry's mind of Dudley in flares, an afro and platform shoes and he didn't know whether to laugh or shudder.

--

Potions was, for once in his life, laid-back and maybe even a little fun. He spent his time watching his dad and Sirius horsing around, seriously messing up their potions and earning disgusted looks from the Slytherins in the process. Harry discovered that without Snape leaning over his shoulder making scathing remarks and even without the help of the Half-Blood Prince he could succeed relatively okay in the subject. He had paired up with Remus, who offered advice every now and then when not murmuring instructions out of the side of his mouth to a panicked Peter, reminding Harry of Hermione and Neville.

Slughorn had peered curiously at Harry on introduction and Harry hoped against all hope that he wouldn't be able to find anything worthwhile in his face. So he was relieved when the professor had grunted "Granger? I'm afraid I've never heard of them, my boy," before ushering them to their seats. Harry had spent the rest of his lesson listening intently to Slughorn praise Lilly. She seemed to take the compliments graciously and maybe even found Slughorn's shower of kind words a little off-putting because she kept on rolling her eyes when he came near, causing her round-faced friend to giggle.

Remus nudged Harry's elbow, jerking him away from his concentration on Lilly, "You're cutting your dragon liver all wonky."

Harry looked down to see a pile of thoroughly uneven slices of liver and quickly corrected them, "Ah, thanks," he muttered.

"So what were you like at potions back at home?"

Harry pulled a face, "Not so good, I never really liked the subject so I find it hard to pay attention."

Remus gave him a disapproving look, "You're average at the moment but you could do better, if you just put a little bit of concentration into your effort I think you'll find your results would be greatly improved." Harry fought the urge to laugh; Remus was always destined to be a teacher really.

"Yeah, thanks, I'll bear that in mind Remus" he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face and he tried to hide it by staring very hard at his potion, hoping Remus didn't notice.

/Remus however, did notice, and could feel the habitual frown begin to slip across his expression at the boy now trying to hide a very big smile; he was clearly on the verge of laughing. Was Harry laughing at _him_? He admitted that it was probably none of his business about how Harry handled his schoolwork but he was just offering advice, that was what friends did, wasn't it?

But after that every time he gave Harry a tip or told him he was going wrong somewhere, the grin just grew bigger accompanied by small remarks that he could tell were bordering on laughing: "Yeah, thanks Remus," or "Cheers Lupin." It got so that every time he looked up he was dazzled by the smile, he didn't think he could take it anymore.

"May I ask what is so funny, Harry?" he finally snapped.

Harry looked up, startled for a moment and then, finally, at Remus' expression, he burst out laughing, attracting the attention of James and Sirius at the next table. "What's up?" Sirius asked,

"And why does Moony-I mean-Remus look like such a sour puss?"

Harry let his chuckles die down before speaking, "Remus just really reminds me of a Professor I knew once."

"I thought you said you were home-schooled," Remus eyed him suspiciously,

"Yeah, I was, he lived near me is all, he was…in and out of work a lot, taught me pretty much everything I know about defence of the dark arts."

Remus could not help but notice Harry gave him an odd look at this, for some reason he glanced at Remus in an oddly wistful way, the young werewolf opened his mouth and was about to say something when Professor Slughorn bumbled over and told them to stop talking.

--

/Lilly was rather frustrated with herself, all through out potions all she could think about was that new boy, Granger. However, resolutely, she had refrained from twisting her head to look at him, that would have just been too obvious, besides, she had to maintain some degree of concentration; she had a reputation after all. Slughorn was a nice enough teacher, he was always very encouraging and pleasant to her any way, but today she found herself actually realising that many of her classmates who complained about him did have a bit of a point. His constant trips over to her table became increasingly annoying as she tried to think about Granger whilst concocting a complicated potion at the same time. Finally she snapped to her best friend:

"Oh for the love of Merlin, if he comes over one more time I think I might throw this lip-locking potion over him just to get the old prat to shut up."

Alice stifled a snigger, "Well this is an occurrence, for once you're not singing his praises, about time."

"It's just hard to concentrate on making this potion and-"

"And what? This isn't a particularly hard potion, not for brewer-extraordinaire like yourself anyway; something else is on your mind, something important, you've barely spoken a word to me all lesson, fess up already."

Lilly mumbled something incoherently before voicing more audibly that it was nothing. She did not know why her thoughts were so fixated on the boy she had only spoken to once, who had laughed at her (probably because she'd said something stupid and not realised it) before rushing off, preferring to spend his time with the crusty old headmaster than herself, he hadn't even told her his name.

Later she had gleaned a little information from others to discover his name was Harry Granger. _Harry, _it was funny, she had always told herself that if she ever had a son she would called him Harry, but then she had also learned that he was now part of the Marauders, or on his way to joining their stupid little gang at least, before the day was even out. She loathed the Marauders. Remus, of course, was alright, he was always polite, hard working and friendly and never big-(not to mention)-_pig_-headed, immature or arrogant like Potter or Black. Frankly, she couldn't see why he was friends with them.

And now the new boy had fallen foul of them. She didn't know why it got up her back so much, it was none of her business who he made friends with after all, she had just, for a split second, rather hoped it would've been with her. Maybe she was just sick of seeing people faun after the little band of show-offs like they were God's gift to the earth, yes, that was it, she had just been hoping that there might be one boy in Gryffindor who didn't hang on their every word and she had been disappointed.

Alice was having none of her feeble excuses however.

"Come on, I know you've got something on you're mind. Or some_one_, who's the lucky guy?" Lilly tensed and Alice knew she had hit the nail on the head.

"Is it James?" she asked excitedly, "Have you finally stopped acting like a frigid ice queen and decided to let him take you out?" James Potter was the only thing the two friends disagreed on, that and-

"What about Frank, have you spoken to _him_ yet?"

"Stop trying to change the subject," said Alice, but she had gotten visibly pinker.

"You're both too shy at this rate you'll never end up together, I'm not changing the subject and I am definitely NOT thinking about James."

Alice was, in Lilly's opinion, way more disappointed by this statement than she should have been.

--

/The day continued uneventfully, with Harry slowly realising with more clarity that it was far too easy to fit in with the Marauders. Already he comfortably joked around with them like they were old friends-which, in a way they were-whilst stealing glances at Lilly, hoping to get a chance to talk to her again.

In the afternoon they had Defence Against the Dark Arts, as always a popular subject, and Harry felt himself sit down in the familiar classroom with an ironic grin on his face, it seemed a bit pointless being taught how to defend himself against the dark arts when he had already defeated the darkest and most powerful wizard of all time…not that that meant he couldn't learn anything, he conceded, not wanting to sound arrogant, even in his own mind, it just seemed a bit pointless knowing what the future held.

His jaw dropped however when a familiarly white-bearded figure strode into the room. "What is Dumbledore doing teaching Defence?" he leaned across the desk and muttered to James.

"Oh, they couldn't find a teacher this year and he used to be the Defence Professor before he became headmaster so he's filling in for now."

Harry frowned, "Couldn't find a teacher?"

"Yeah, haven't you heard? No Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher stays for more than year, something horrible always happens to them, they say the job is cursed." Too late Harry remembered that 1977 must be _after_ Voldemort returned to Hogwarts to request the job from Dumbledore and, when refused, cursed the job, he shuddered at the thought.

Dumbledore surveyed the class which quickly fell silent, his gaze alighted, fractionally, on Harry before sweeping on and finally resting on his desk. "Over the past few weeks," he began and Harry was reminded of his private lessons with Dumbledore that seemed so long ago, "we have been reviewing your knowledge of Duelling and, feeling that you have sufficiently grasped the concept of Wand Combat, I feel it would be wise to assess your new-found understanding with a small test." The class groaned audibly and everyone began pulling out their quills.

"A pop quiz? The old codgers off his rocker, he knows this is the hardest thing we've studied yet." Sirius muttered angrily under his breath, reminding Harry oh so much of Ron. Dumbledore was harbouring a mischievous glint in his eye that suggested he found the students' reactions to his announcement rather amusing as he displayed the test questions on the blackboard with a sweep of his wand.

Dumbledore turned and spoke to Harry, barely surprising him when he addressed him by his assumed name, it was, after all, Dumbledore, "Mr Granger, although I know you have not been studying this subject I wish you to attempt the test anyway to allow me to gauge your ability in this area." Harry nodded with quiet confidence, he was pretty sure he could handle the questions on the board, Dumbledore couldn't have chosen a better subject really, except, perhaps, (here he glanced furtively at Remus) werewolves.

Sirius, however, patted Harry consolingly on the shoulder, "Sorry mate, that's really tough."

It was, in fact, even better than Harry had thought. The test was a breeze; writing about the important points of armed combat with a hostile opponent was child's play when you'd experienced it several times first hand. It was unsurprising, then, when Harry looked up, having finished his paper, he found everyone else's heads bowed in concentration and the scratching of quills still audible in the air.

After ten minutes of slowly realising that he still had quite a bit of the lesson left Harry glanced around. He saw Remus, Hermione-like, adding another fact to an answer already two rolls of parchment in length and James counting things off on his fingers, no doubt trying to think of another disarming spell out of the five he was supposed to mention. Peter was scribbling frantically, a look of doomed panic sprawled across his features, Harry continued to look around the room in boredom and was suddenly shocked to find the same expression on the face of his mother, Lilly.

He began to watch her more closely, every few minutes she would scribble a couple of words before returning to cradling her head in her hands in despair, clearly the test wasn't going very well. Finally, she seemed to think of some other strategy and glanced up to see Dumbledore engrossed in marking essays. To Harry's horror she then continued to slowly lean across her desk and glance at the parchment of a boy sitting next to her before returning to her quill and beginning to write, her hand flying across her own parchment.

_She was cheating! _

Harry couldn't quite believe it, well, he knew that he was no saint himself and his use of the Half Blood Prince's suggestion of a Bezoar in the potion's test two years ago could technically be called cheating but still…it was his _mother_. He sat, digesting the new information that his mother wasn't perfect after all, until the lesson ended, accompanied by a relieved sigh from the class. He knew it wasn't really any of his business and it was probably just an excuse to get to talk to her, but Harry decided Lilly Evans needed some words of wise advice.

**A/N: Sorry if I keep on referring to dormitories as dorms by accident, that's just what we call them at my school! Also, just a reminder that the idea of a time-travel fan fic came to me via TeenLaunch's story Carry On-go read it, it's really good stuff!! **

**I also worked out that if everyone who read this chapter took just two minutes out of their day to write a review, even if just one word, I would officially be the happiest person in the world. I promise that if you do this for me I will go give everyone in my family a great big hug to relieve the massive swell of love I will feel for all mankind. (Accompanied, of course, by a happy dance and muffin baskets for all!) I am giving you lots of nice 8 page long chapters after all.**


	6. Tapestries and Talks

**A/N:**** I am now probably infamous for my lengthy Author Notes so just three words for you this time: Hope you enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: All rights to Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. Any use of the characters, scenarios, places or objects found here are for my own amusement and I can make no claim to either owning or creating them. **

Tapestries and Talks 

But Dumbledore stopped Harry on his way through the door. It was weird having the old wizard treat him like any other student, not that he thought he deserved preferential treatment, but the Dumbledore he knew always seemed to understand what was going through his mind and now all that the Professor seemed to be able to register was that the uncomfortable look on Harry's face suggested that he wanted to be somewhere else.

"This will not take long Harry, or Mr Granger as you are now calling yourself, if you would please take a seat."

Harry pulled a chair from a table and sat in front of the desk, opposite Dumbledore, rather reluctantly. This was surely to concern the warning that Dumbledore had issued about spending time with his parents, the warning he had clearly disregarded. To his surprise however, Dumbledore did not reprimand him. He _did_ look over his half-moon spectacles with a sombre expression, piercing Harry with that gaze that made it feel like the old wizard could see right through him. The young man (who now felt more like a little boy) shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

"Be careful Harry, time-travel can be a treacherous thing. It is human nature to wish we could erase mistakes or alter our pasts. However, I think maybe you know better than others the importance in considering the consequences of our actions."

Harry looked at Dumbledore searchingly, could the Professor possibly know what Harry had done or, he tried to think in time-traveller terms, was _going to do_ in the future regarding Voldemort and the Wizarding community?

"I'll bear that in mind, Professor," he said, warily and slightly confused, still looking for the glimmer of recognition in the old wizard's eyes.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, though without the acknowledgment that Harry had hoped for. Harry expressed a thought that had been nagging at him. "Professor, if I'm stuck here, what will happen to my friends? What will they think has happened to me? And what about the Deatheaters that attacked me, people need to warned…"

"You are not looking at time in the right kind of perspective, Harry. You must think of it as line, but one that can take many paths. Indeed, your disappearance from your time will cause that line to take a route it would not have if you had never used the broom. However, as long as we return you to the exact moment you departed from your time that line will not branch off and will continue along the path that it was originally going to take."

Harry tried to wrap his mind around this. "So the reality where I disappear, where my friends worry where I am, won't exist if I return back to the moment I left my time?"

Dumbledore smiled, "Exactly, it will be as if you never left."

"That's a weight off my mind, thank you." Sensing that was the end of their conversation Harry got up to leave.

"Oh, and Harry?" Harry stopped and turned. "Many wizards who play with time travel often discover a time they prefer to their own; I myself always believed I would enjoy life at the turn of the century." Harry found himself picturing Dumbledore strolling about Victorian England and couldn't, as was probably intended by Dumbledore, suppress a grin.

"But those wizards who decide to stay in a time that is not their own indefinitely find that their decision carries dire consequences. It does not do to dwell on the past, and worse to dwell _in_ it. Those wizards believe that knowing what the future will bring is an advantage, but then discover that they are imprisoned by their own knowledge. How to make a decision, any decision, no matter how minor, knowing that it will affect the future. A future that they cannot depend upon not knowing how their existence in that world has altered time. They start believing they have knowledge that no-one else has and then end in wishing that they are ignorant to all the future holds."

Harry did not know what to say to this, what kind of warning was that? He didn't want to stay in 1977, that was obvious. Wasn't he just asking Dumbledore to fix the broom? He decided to settle on nodding and left the room.

--

/Lilly walked slowly from her Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, letting the hustle and bustle of the rest of the students fade away. Frankly, she was pretty ashamed of herself. DADA had always been one of her worst subjects and she had been struggling all term with the subject they were learning. She had been spending nights up, going over the theory in book after book; with the number of texts she had checked out of the library on the subject of duelling she was sure Madame Pince was beginning to believe she was planning some kind of battle.

And still each essay kept coming back with a lower and lower mark. Even dunderheads like Black were getting better grades than she was, though she was the only one who knew it, not even Alice was aware of how much she was struggling. Everyone just assumed perfect prefect Evans was excelling as usual.

Therefore when the headmaster had announced a surprise test she had felt like bursting into tears. Lilly had never been in a situation like that before, she wasn't failing because she wasn't working hard enough, she just couldn't her head around subject, no matter how hard the young witch tried.

Lilly had panicked, she didn't realise how oppressive the sound of forty scratching quills could be before yours wasn't one of them. The blank parchment had been mocking her as she stared at it, the words refusing to spring from her mind like they normally did. So she had cheated. Lilly shuddered; it was like a dirty word. She couldn't quite believe she had done it; it had just been too easy when she pictured the idea of a big fat zero coming back on her marked test.

She heard the sound of swift footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see Harry Granger hurrying up to her.

"There you are, I was hoping I would get a chance to talk to you."

She froze and stared at him, "Get…a…chance…to talk with me?" she stuttered and mentally berated herself, could she sound more like an idiot right now? She was just so shocked that he was talking to her, it was still early days but she was sure the Marauders would have turned him against her by now.

He grinned at her and glanced around at the corridor around them, "Yeah, but, um, we should probably go somewhere a bit less open for this." Lilly looked around, despite her curiosity, "There aren't any empty classes around…" she pointed out.

"Oh, I know!" Granger grabbed her wrist and led her a few yards down the corridor before pulling her behind a tapestry and into a concealed passageway.

Lilly didn't have time to wonder how he knew about a secret passage on only his second day at Hogwarts before he was speaking again. "So I was watching you during the test and you seemed to be having trouble." She didn't know whether to feel angry at this assumption or to blush at the idea that he had been watching her, she settled for a blush. The blush however, swiftly disappeared when a weighted silence fell between them and she realised that he was very nicely trying to tell her that he had seen her cheating.

"Oh god," she said quietly to his raised eyebrows that almost disappeared underneath his messy fringe. It was oddly attract-

_CONCENTRATE LILLY!_ The not-so-little voice at the back of her mind snapped her back into reality. She decided to feign indifference at the fact that she had been caught in the act when inside she was actually shrivelling up in shame-what must he think of her?

"It's not a big deal, I probably got a Troll anyway." She crossed her arms defensively.

"I know, but I thought…if you were having trouble with the subject maybe…I could tutor you if you wanted."

But Lilly was now in ice-queen mode, it was a defence mechanism, sure, she knew that, but it helped anyway. What made this guy think he was so much better than her anyway? Was it any of his business what she did in tests? And-oh god, she realised again-he was probably going to tell all his little Marauder friends that he had caught Lilly Evans, 'Miss Perfect,' cheating. After all the times she had told them off for copying off each other they would never let her hear the end of it.

"What makes you think I need your help? In fact, what makes you think it's any of your business in the first place?" she snapped, glaring at him. However, far from the normal response she got from guys at the sight of her evil side emerging (step back, look frightened and head for the hills at the first possible opportunity) he actually smiled.

This infuriated her more, though she knew that she was probably angrier at herself than his offer of help. "_What," _she inquired in tones of venom, "is so funny?"

"Oh, nothing, you just remind of someone I know," his light-hearted tone added to her aggravation, "And your right, I'm sorry, I don't know why it would be any of my business." He had the good grace to look at least slightly contrite.

Lilly shook her head, trying to dispel her feeling of uncertainty. "Whatever." She swung her bag over her shoulder and pushed her way out of the passageway, storming off with practised dignity; a dignity that was slightly hindered by the cheery call coming from behind her, "If you change your mind, let me know!"

He was still as chirpy as ever. Guys were _so_ ANNOYING!

--

/Harry probably should've been worried that his own mother appeared less than friendly towards him. He probably should've been wondering what was wrong with him that made her act that way. He probably should've been over-analysing everything within the encounter, anxiously questioning his actions.

But frankly, he couldn't be bothered.

That's what he spent his whole life doing, wasn't it? Overanalysing, going over each mistake torturously, wondering what he should have done? For once he had not allowed himself to worry about his every action and he actually felt…alright about it. Instead of allowing himself to obsess he had relaxed, let go, he had been able to laugh at his mother's resemblance to Hermione in a huff and he had even been unperturbed by Lilly's hostility towards him. He had learnt something from Ginny at least, it wasn't anything personal, she had probably just been embarrassed about being caught at cheating. Girls reacted weirdly like that.

It was also rather amusing to see her reaction, he was sure he had irritated her no end when he remained cheery. He was also sure that she wouldn't stay mad at him forever; no-one could remain openly hostile to someone who was always friendly towards them, which was exactly what he planned on doing. He felt something odd and unfamiliar but not all that unpleasant swell inside him, he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

Barely thirty seconds after Lilly had exited the secret passageway Harry followed suit in an unusually good mood. After all, he thought as he broke into a whistle, not many kids got to wind their mum up without being grounded.

--

/Remus was halfway to the Gryffindor common room before he realised he'd left is quill in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Muttering something to the other Marauders he immediately doubled back, not wanting to be late for supper.

What Remus was unaware of was the two people who had concealed themselves behind a tapestry moments before he strode past their hiding place.

With relief he discovered that the DADA classroom was still unlocked and he retrieved his quill swiftly, realising that if he hurried he would still have time to drop his stuff of in his dorm before supper started. However, when he turned the corner of the corridor he was struck by raised voices coming from behind the tapestry to his left:

"…_is so funny?" _

"…_nothing…" _

Remus was not a nosy person by nature more…curious. But even despite this he didn't really have any desire to eavesdrop on the pair in the passageway (it was clear from their voices that one was male the other female.) Their voices drifted out towards him.

"…_any of my business" _

"_Whatever." _

It sounded like a lovers tiff. Remus was just about to leave them to it when the girl stormed out of the passage; he quickly backed around the corner, not wanting her to think he had been listening in, but just slowly enough to catch sight of the red-head striding away. _Lilly Evans?_

A voice called from behind the tapestry, a voice that was startlingly familiar in its cheerful arrogance. "If you change your mind, let me know!" _James?_ But that was impossible, Remus had just seen James head for the great hall with the others. Even if it was James, what was he doing hiding behind a passageway with Lilly Evans? The girl could barely stand to be near James, let alone risk being found in such a compromising position with him (and he was sure for a girl like Evans being cramped together in a dark passageway, a favourite haunt of many love-struck couples in need of a little privacy, with the boy she allegedly hated, would count as compromising.)

When the owner of the male voice appeared Remus did really believe for a split second that it was indeed James. But then he caught sight of a pair of green eyes and realised that this boy was in fact slightly taller than James: Harry.

It was crazy how much he'd sounded like James just then. And then the reality of what he'd just seen hit him, oh dear, if James heard about this he would not be happy. Even if Lilly had left in apparent huff it still left plenty of theories as to why she and Harry were arguing or why they had been in the passageway in the first place. And Harry's parting remark left many questions, Remus was careful not to jump conclusions but he could not help but wonder what exactly Harry had been offering that enraged Lilly so.

But Harry seemed like a nice guy, why should he have any idea that James had a thing for Lilly? They had hardly pointed it out in the guide to being a Gryffindor: Rule number one, Lilly Evans is out of bounds because James Potter is in love with her and his word is law.

But that _was_ a kind of unspoken law amongst the Gryffindor boys, the poor girl probably hadn't been asked out by a Gryffindor since her fourth year. Nobody really had seemed to question its logicality though, if James liked a girl all evidence pointed to the fact that he could have her-so what if the one girl he actually fell for was the one girl who thought he was a complete prat? Once James set his sights on a girl a sort of switch clicked in everyone's brains: _No point asking her out now. _

As much as Remus detested these kind of rules created by a hierarchy of popularity James was his friend, popular or not, he'd done stuff that meant Remus would probably owe him for a lifetime, he'd be telling James' kids about the kind of friend their dad had made at school: loyal more than anything else. Despite any 'furry little problems' James' friendship had been unwavering and that counted for everything in Remus' books.

He'd just have a quiet word with Harry, explain the situation, he repeated what he'd thought before, Harry was a nice guy. He'd back off as soon as he realised the circumstances between James and Lilly (well, more the circumstances James _had _for Lilly, it wasn't exactly a two-way thing) anyway, Lilly didn't even seem to reciprocate Harry's feelings, he probably looked too much like James for her liking.

And, coming to his decision, Remus strode off to supper, not really realising that he had stopped being careful not to jump to conclusions and had come to rest quite firmly upon a very big conclusion indeed.

--

Remus waited until after supper to have his word with Harry. He drew Harry away from the others on their way back to the common room, engaging him in a conversation about how he thought the Defence test went and deliberately walking slowly so that they lost the others as they hurried on ahead.

"…Yeah, I think I did okay, I mean, I haven't studied what you've been doing before but Defence Against the Dark Arts has always been my best subject."

The young werewolf nodded, "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about, Harry." He stopped walking completely and faced the taller boy. He had to do this delicately, he didn't want to humiliate Harry by telling him he had witnessed his rejection, no guy wanted an audience when a girl turned him down. "You see, I saw you talking to Lilly."

"Oh," said Harry, and Remus was sure he understood what he meant when he said 'talking to.'

"Yes, I just thought you'd like to know that James likes her too, a lot, he's been practically in love with her for the last four years and I don't really think it's the best idea for you to go after."

At this, much to Remus' confusion, Harry burst into laughter.

"Oh, Remus…" he chuckled some more and wiped a tear of mirth away from his eye with one hand and placing the other on the werewolf's shoulder in a reassuring way. "Trust me, I do not have a thing for Lilly, she's not really my type."

Remus felt himself colour, he had been so sure, but the more he thought about it the more it was obvious that Harry had not been asking Lilly out, he'd only just met the girl for heavens sakes. The werewolf, in a very rare occurrence, felt quite stupid. He was also quite relieved, no complications then, James could go on pining after Lilly and Harry could join in with the others teasing him about it.

"Seriously?" he asked, just to make one hundred percent sure.

"I'm more serious than Sirius himself," Harry said sombrely and Remus rolled his eyes in exasperation, how many times had he heard _that_ particular joke.

"So what were you talking to her about that made her so angry?"

"Ah," Harry frowned, "That, I'm afraid, I can't tell you, it would be a breach of her privacy."

Remus looked at Harry long and hard and decided he must be telling the truth. He didn't know whether it was those weirdly familiar green eyes, or his striking resemblance to James, or just the certainty that kept overwhelming him in the form of some deep-set instinct that this guy was just _good,_ but he couldn't help but trust him.

Remus enjoyed walking back to the common room with Harry. It was strange how even a short chat seemed to gain a considerably deeper acquaintance with the new boy. Remus read people well, and people were never too open when making new friendships, a newcomer to their year was always wary and on-their-guard: testing the waters before they bared all.

But Harry acted as if he already knew him, chatted without inhibitions. He let the young werewolf in and he couldn't help but _be_ drawn in. They talked about all sorts of things: school work and teachers, the differences between Hogwarts and living with Muggles but only when they got onto the subject of Quidditch did Harry's eyes really light up.

"You like Quidditch then?"

"Yeah, it's the best; it's even more than that. I remember the first time I got on a broom and it was like…like…for the first time I felt truly free, you know? Like all this time you'd been held down by chains and you didn't even know it until you realised you could fly. I get on a broom and it feels like all my troubles are gone, like there isn't any world outside the sky."

"Uh huh." Remus took this in, that was pretty poetic for a guy talking about his favourite sport. Harry seemed to realise this a little bit and gained a rosy complexion.

"I just mean that whenever I have a problem or something I need to think about, a couple of laps on a broom makes everything look better."

"No, I can understand that. So you play then?"

Harry nodded, "Seeker."

"James is seeker of the Gryffindor team, he's captain too, Sirius is a chaser. I can't really say I'm an expert on the subject but if it's Quidditch you want to discuss; those two can talk about the damn sport for hours."

They had reached the portrait hole and were climbing through it when he said these words. "What's that you're not an expert on Moony? I didn't think it was possible."

Remus grimaced at a grinning Sirius, "Quidditch."

"Ah, the beautiful game," sighed James, with the air of talking about something sacred.

"Harry plays," the werewolf explained.

The two raven haired boys jumped up in excitement, as if Harry had just declared he could spontaneously combust.

"Really, what position do you play?"

"Are you any good?"

"What team to you support?"

"Got any bets on the World Cup?"

Harry laughed and sank into an armchair, deciding how to answer their bombardment of questions. "Let's see: I play seeker position, I'm a fair flyer, I don't really support a team but I'm open to persuasion and I'm sort of out of touch with the World Cup, I prefer playing to watching I think."

"Huh, we'll have to have a couple of laps round the pitch, see what you're like. You might even give James a run for his money." At this James and Sirius looked at each other and grinned mischievously, sharing a secret joke. Remus knew to them the idea of anyone giving James a run for his money was preposterous, he was easily the best player at Hogwarts.

"That should be fun," agreed Harry eagerly. Remus felt a little bit sorry for him, knowing he probably didn't have much of a chance. He knew what was coming next, it wouldn't be the first time the devious duo had hoodwinked some poor innocent out of their money.

"How about we make it interesting?" Sirius' grin stretched wider and Remus was surprised Harry didn't even look slightly perturbed. He supposed he didn't know Sirius well enough, but to Remus that grin spelt T.R.O.U.B.L.E.

"Sure, what are we betting?"

"We'll set the snitch loose and the first one to catch it wins. I've got a galleon on Prongs-I mean-James."

James clapped a hand on Sirius' shoulder appreciatively and Remus rolled his eyes, as if he had been expecting anything else. "James?" Sirius asked.

"One galleon to me, of course." They looked at Remus.

"A galleon on our newcomer," Remus said dryly, enjoying their looks of surprise. Harry grinned,

"Thanks Remus, I suppose I'll bet on myself too then."

"Peter?"

The small boy, who had until now remained silent squeaked out one galleon on James. "Excellent! When shall we do it?"

"Wednesday, we always have free time then."

"Wednesday it is," Sirius rubbed his hands together deviously, "Say your prayers Granger."

Harry laughed, impressing Remus again by not looking worried in the slightest, "If I'm praying for anything, it's that James is still in one piece when I'm through with him." There were a couple of '_ooooohs' _and joking hissesfrom any surrounding Gryffindors who had been listening in.

James chuckled, "I knew I'd like you, Harry."

--

/Harry was not really worried about the contest between James and him, he was more curious than anything. Countless people said he must have inherited his flying ability from his father, now was the time to find out exactly _how much_ he had inherited. A galleon into the bargain just, as Sirius had said, made things interesting. It was obvious they both James, Sirius and Peter didn't think stood a chance, and Harry was beginning to suspect that Remus had only put his money Harry out of pity.

But none of them had known that James would be battling against his own flesh and blood.

He nearly tripped over his dirty robes from yesterday that he had left on the floor by his bed. With a sigh he picked them up, rummaging in the pockets before throwing them in a pile for the laundry. A couple of stink bombs, a sugar quill, a piece of Astronomy homework he wouldn't be handing in any time soon and the photo he had shown Dumbledore.

He piled the rest of the stuff on his bedside cabinet and picked the photo up. The world in which this picture had been taken seemed light years away and it didn't exactly help to know that the time the picture had been taken in was decades away as well. After Dumbledore's assurances that the amount of time he spent in 1977 wouldn't affect the events in his own time Harry felt strangely distant from the scene in the pictures.

Shouldn't he be pining after his own time? Spending every waking moment contemplating getting back? But instead he found himself chatting to Remus and making bets with his dad and Sirius, offering to tutor his mother and wondering how he did on his Defence Against the Dark Arts test. What was he doing even making assumptions that he was going to be here that long?

And then Harry stopped himself before the surge of self-doubt submerged him, he was going to stop doing this. He'd managed to do it with Lilly, let go, not question everything. He could make it a habit, new Harry wasn't going to worry, he was going to go with the flow, so what if he was enjoying spending time with his parents and their friends? Why was it so dreadful that he was_ happy_ at that moment?

It wasn't dreadful.

And he was going to carry on being happy.

Not being concerned about everything wasn't the end of the world.

Harry tucked the photo under his pillow as he slid into bed. He didn't have to be wary, he didn't have to worry. He could let go.

It didn't occur to Harry that this might be the one time he should be wary.

**A/N: There we go, sorry it took so long to get out. As always please Read & Review (it means so much to me). Thank you for all your previous reviews, I do try to reply to them all but if I missed you out I'm sorry, I appreciate your all your comments very much.**


	7. Houses and Hatred

**A/N: Hello…is there anyone there? ANYONE? Oh no, I fear all my reviewers are deceased seeing as I have not haunted the hallways of Fanfiction for SOOOO long, please, forgive me for my wrongdoings! School got in the way and I was unable to continue, but I'm back now! So let's have lots of reviews to remind me why I love Fanfiction so much and why I should carry on updating, like, every week! Although you're probably too p- - - -d with me to bother…**

**Finally, and long awaited, this week's chapter is dedicated to PadfootROX as they always review just for the sake of it and they are a regular reader of my stories (Padfoot doesn't just rock, you do to.) **

**And also dedicated to Allergic-To-Sunlight (who knows the horror that is having a long username) who posted the wickedest review ever, she is officially my favourite person in the WHOLE of Scotland; I am very chuffed to be cooler than your ruler. I also totally get what you're saying about the first bit of Breaking Dawn being just like a Fanfiction, I kept on thinking: Haven't I read this somewhere before? **

**Hope this chappie is a goodun (and worth the wait!)**

**Disclaimer: Me no owny… **

Houses and Hatred

To avoid any more disturbing wake-up calls Harry made sure he was up at the same time as the others. Surrounded by the Marauders had Harry so enthralled at breakfast the previous day that he had barely eaten anything. Today however, now he was slightly more adjusted to his bizarre situation (and now that he was the new go-with-the-flow Harry) he found his appetite had returned, and rather than do nothing but gawk at his father and his best friends as he did yesterday, he concentrated on the delicious array of food before him.

He helped himself to bacon and eggs and began happily stuffing his face, the house-elves of Hogwarts, apparently, had perfected the art of the making the best bacon known to man (or known to Harry at least) hundreds of years ago and hadn't needed to change it since. He helped himself to another plateful of the stuff. Sirius laughed and Harry looked up, Sirius laughed harder and nudged Remus and Peter either side of him, looking meaningfully in Harry's direction. Harry frowned and chewed furiously on his mouth of bacon, which made the three boys laugh harder, finally he swallowed and asked: "What?"

Only that someone said it at the same time as him. He looked at James, who had been sitting next to him, curiously, he looked curiously back.

"It's like looking at twins or something!" Peter said in a slightly awed way.

"Mirror images of each other," murmured Remus quietly, returning to the usual piece of literature he always seemed to have to hand.

"Yeah, you two seem to share a love of bacon, are you sure you're not related to James, Granger?" Harry shook his head and decided not to encourage this vein of conversation, looking around him as if taking in his surroundings. The sky was a light grey today, the sun a faint glow behind the clouds misting the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall; he watched them drift slowly for a while, before turning his gaze to sweep up and down the table.

It was scary how much of his generation he could find in the occupants of the Gryffindor table, here and there he recognised features that would be seen on these people's children: the nose of a Ravenclaw girl he had Astronomy with, the tall stature of someone on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, same hair colour too…his eyes moved to meet a pair identical to his own, they were quickly turned away. Harry wondered whether Lily had decided if she was still angry at him or not, she was probably still unsure about whether he was going to tell people that she cheated, he mused, and then he noticed the kid she was talking too, who had a very distinctive hair colour indeed.

--

/Lily knew she was doing it again, but she wasn't sure whether she cared or not, it was impossibly hard not to watch the new boy, wonder what he was thinking, his face was so expressive so…fascinating, she decided. He scanned his surroundings, gazing up at the ceiling, a pensive look about him. Lily sighed, other boys didn't do that, other boys had trouble looking _thoughtful_ let alone pensive, pensive was usually completely out of range of their brain capacity, yet it seemed to come so easily to Granger.

He was looking up and down the table now, his eyes meeting hers, she flushed and looked away, having been caught in the act of staring at him. She hoped her look could be mistaken for one of annoyance, he might assume she was still angry at him about yesterday. Unfortunately, the situation was quite the opposite, she knew she had brought it all on herself, and since she hadn't had any _hilarious_ jokes at her expense from the Marauders she could only assume he'd kept the incident secret.

She still felt his eyes on her, she wanted to cover up for her staring, and desperately picked the first person she noticed, a little first year with flaming red hair.

"Hey, its William isn't it?" as Head girl she tried to know the names of at least everyone in her house.

The first year blinked, "Bill, actually."

"Could you pass me the toast Bill?"

**-- **

/"Holy hell!" Harry exclaimed. Even without the earring, dragon-hide boots and now being _younger_ than Harry it was unmistakeable who the tiny, red-headed boy was. Harry jumped up and, without thinking, headed towards the end of the table, ignoring the questions coming from the Marauders about what he was doing. He stopped, grinning like a mad-man where the boy sat, oblivious to the looks Lily was shooting him.

"Do you mind if I squeeze in here?" he asked a surprised looking fourth year who nodded and shifted up so that Harry could seat himself comfortably on the bench, Lily, sat opposite, looked as if she was about to say something but Harry was too busy talking to the red-headed boy next to him.

"Bill, Bill Weasley right?" he stuck out a hand. Bill gawped at him, clearly wondering what in the name of Merlin was a big seventh year doing introducing himself to him.

"Err, yeah…" he looked at Harry's hand carefully, as if it were dangerous, (indeed, it was about four times bigger than his own) and gingerly took it. Harry couldn't help but be surprised at how tiny and child-like the hand felt grasped within his.

"You know this boy?" Lily asked, in a rather irritated tone, Harry noticed, she must've still been angry at him.

"Yeah," Harry replied simply and realising he was probably shaking Bill's arm off, he quickly let go.

"I don't think I know you?" Bill asked it like a question, as if wanting Harry to tell him whether they were, in fact, acquainted or not.

"No, you don't, I'm Harry Granger. Your dad works in the ministry right? Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts or something like that."

"Yeah, that's right," Bill still seemed confused as to how he'd found himself in this conversation. "How do you know?"

"Oh, my best friend's dad's friend works at the Ministry, talks to him about it all the time," Harry tried to keep it as vague and obscure as possible, "Says he's one of the best men the Ministry's got!"

Bill flushed slightly, "He's only just been promoted, he's been trying to get the job for ages now."

"Ah, yes, but apparently he's got a real passion for his work."

Bill's ears went red and Harry wanted to laugh at how much he resembled Ron, it was amazing how a couple of years of success could turn someone into one of the most confident people he'd met.

"Yeah, he loves muggles, mad about them."

"Hmm…I live with muggles, some of the worst people I know, but they're not all bad, of course." Harry was having immense fun, being overbearingly friendly whilst smiling insanely seemed to be having an interesting effect on poor little Bill, the kind of effect Harry could never hope to bring upon Bill of the future. The red-head's ears were getting redder and redder whilst he looked anywhere but Harry embarassedly, at a loss as to how to respond to his last statement. Harry decided to put him out of his misery.

"You play Quidditch Bill?" he asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Yeah, love it."

"Any good?"

He shrugged, "Alright," he answered modestly.

"I'm sure you'll be captain of the Quidditch team someday," he winked at the boy, who looked doubtful but spoke up.

"I've heard James Potter is a great captain though, I'm looking forward to the match coming up." Bill looked decidedly proud that he had produced his longest sentence of the conversation yet.

"James Potter? I share a dorm with him." Harry looked over at the Marauders, who had been watching their interaction the whole time with confused looking expressions, and waved at James, he waved back slowly. Bill looked at Harry in slight awe; apparently James was the 'cool' person to know.

"Actually, talking of Quidditch, we've got a little bet going on in my dorm at the moment, you see, everyone seems to think James is the best seeker at school, but I reckon I can take him." Harry chuckled at the wide eyed looked Bill was giving him. "So tomorrow we're going to have a contest to see who can catch the snitch first. It should be interesting, want to come watch?"

"Sure," a glint of excitement shone in the smaller boy's eyes.

"Great, bring some friends along."

Lily cleared her throat loudly, they both turned to see her glaring at Harry. "Seeing as you are new to this school Granger, I'll warn you that gambling is against the rules."

Harry smiled his most endearing smile and Lily's severe expression actually softened. "Come on Lily, it's only a bit of fun, we're not betting any more than a galleon and it's only between the guys in my dorm and I."

"But at events like this I'm not sure it will stay that way," she explained.

"What do you mean?"

"Let's say the 'Marauders' often like to publicise these things and use them to their full advantage, in other words 'profit from them as much as possible.'"

Harry laughed at Lily's dark tone, "Are you kidding? _Those_ guys? They're the most innocent people I know. Nice talking to you Bill." And with that Harry got up and returned to his breakfast, leaving Lily wondering whether Harry could possibly believe his own statement.

/Lily had been more than a little miffed when Granger had decided to find Bill Weasley far more interesting than her. For one, glorious, moment she had thought he was getting up from his seat, smiling dazzlingly, just to talk to her, but no, he had spent the whole time chatting to a first-year he had some obscure connection with. In fact, the only time he had chosen to acknowledge her existence was when she had pointed out what he was doing was against the school rules, and then she had merely been dissolved into a pathetic pile of sludge at that adorable smile of his…

_No,_ said that little voice in her head, which had been growing decidedly fainter at each smile or comment Granger threw her way, _not adorable, arrogant and annoying, just like potter, keep repeating that to yourself Lily, just like Potter, __just like potter, __just like potter, __just like potter__…_But it was no use, the voice finally disappeared with a muffled kind of cry when Lily realised that she didn't resent Harry for chumming up with Bill, she admired him for it.

Too many of the older boys believed they were too 'cool' to associate with any of the younger years and there was Harry, already friends with the most popular group in school, and he still found the time to be nice to a younger kid, even inviting him along to something. Although Lily had a sneaking suspicion that perhaps partly Harry just wanted to show off, despite the fact he'd have a hard time doing that if he was going against James. Lily knew nothing of quidditch and detested Potter, but that didn't mean even she couldn't recognise the fact that James' flying was nothing less than amazing. Even outside Hogwarts his abilities on a broom were well known, and despite his high grades most had him down as the next seeker in the national team. She wouldn't be surprised if Black, Pettigrew and Lupin weren't already putting bets on the next world cup.

Yes, even Lily had to admit, no-one could beat James on a broom except James.

Of course, she hadn't factored his son into the equation.

--

Charms was just as noisy and chaotic as it had ever been-_scratch that-_**would **ever be. Except this time it was with the Slytherins. This should make for an interesting lesson, thought Harry, wondering how Gryffindor/Slytherin interaction fared in a lesson with so much interaction involved. There was certainly a distinctive divide through the middle of the classroom, the Gryffindors on one side: loud, boisterous and laughing. The Slytherins on the other: muttering, sneaky and smirking. Every now and again one of them would break the murmur with a laugh, though these always sounded cruel, mirthless or sneering.

The two groups ignored each other unwaveringly, apparently not in the mood to antagonise each other today, until Flitwick entered the room. He, tiny as ever, mounted the pile of books on his chair and announced that they would be working in pairs for today's lesson. Immediately there was a flurry of activity as students quickly found a partner, not wishing to be stuck with someone undesirable.

Harry, who had been sitting at a desk surrounded by the marauders, looked around to see them all looking at him guiltily. He realised they had already paired themselves off, Sirius and James, Remus and Peter, leaving him quite alone. He swiftly glanced around the room, in fact, _everyone_ seemed to have paired up. Remus bit his lip,

"Sorry Harry, we could ask Flitwick if we could be in a three-"

"No, that's fine," said Harry cheerily, spotting a solitary, bowed head at the back of the classroom and making his way over to the Slytherin section.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed James, clapping his hand to his mouth, "We haven't even explained to him what bastards the Slytherins all are! He doesn't realise what he's getting himself into!" the Marauders stared after him in shock, it was so ingrained in all of them to hate the Slytherins and be hated back that none of them had comprehended Harry wouldn't know of the century old enmity. Sure enough, Harry was attracting more and more stares as he drew closer to the Slytherins and the figure.

"And of all the Slytherins he could have picked…" groaned Sirius. Harry reached the boy with lank black hair and smiled down at him.

"Hey, do you mind if I'm your partner?" asked Harry pleasantly and the boy raised his head.

Snape.

It was an unspoken law within that lesson that Snape always worked alone. No-one wanted to be his partner (including the Slytherins) and he liked it that way. Snape was unpopular even in future death-eater circles and clearly a loner. And Harry had, happily, obliviously, just broken this law.

Snape's face twisted into a sneer and Harry noticed his hand jerk towards his wand, "Fuck off, Potter," he turned to resume reading the textbook he had in his hands.

Harry chuckled, same old Snape, even if he was slightly more verbal at this age. Snape's head snapped back up when he heard the laugh, he looked at Harry with utmost loathing and fingered his wand again.

"You're mistaken, I'm Harry, Harry Granger, a new student, I started here two days ago."

Snape looked more than furious and perhaps slightly wary he hadn't reached the punch-line of Potters' joke yet, "Piss _off, _Potter," he hissed, "Do I look like I have time for your stupid pranks?" Harry held up his hand to stem the tide of abuse and silently pointed over to where James was standing with the others.

Snape blinked and flicked his gaze to Harry, to James, and back to Harry again, he opened his mouth, probably to say something venomous when Flitwick called across the classroom.

"Settle down, settle down, Mr. granger would you please take your seat."

Harry automatically occupied the seat beside Snape and held out his hand,

"It's Severus, right?" Severus ignored him, preferring to listen to Flitwick who was explaining something about Combination charms. After the first few sentences Harry shut off, instead eyeing the dark youth next to him with curiosity.

He hadn't changed much from that awful memory he had found in Snape's pensive, except there was a dead, worn look in his eyes. It was clear young Severus was tired of this place and these people, he was simply: unhappy. This pained Harry in a way he thought he would never associate with his Potion's master. It drove home to Harry how brave Severus had been to return to a place he loathed so much for Dumbledore and the Order.

When they began practising the charm it seemed Snape had decided to simply ignore Harry, silently pointing his wand at the cutlery they were trying to animate and muttering the spell. It was a hard charm, but soon Severus had the knives and forks ballroom dancing like there was no tomorrow, Harry laughed and poked his wand at a pair of tangoing spoons.

"Wow, you're good at this."

Severus narrowed his eyes in response.

When Harry's attempt ended in the cutlery jumping up and down rather half-heartedly Snape smirked with superiority, the half-smile was wiped off however when Harry laughed again, "Three guesses which out of the two of us is going to get a better mark in their NEWTS."

Severus sighed, slammed down his textbook and drew threateningly close to Harry,

"Look, I know you're a minion of Potter's so why don't you get to the point and humiliate me so I can jinx you into oblivion?" he hissed poisonously.

Harry attempted to look shocked, though he knew his teasing of Snape wouldn't have continued much longer, he shook his head.

"Just because I'm friends with James, just because I look like him for that matter, doesn't mean I'm a complete bastard, alright?"

Severus paused, looking confused, and then sneered again, "You're a Gryffindor, why wouldn't you worship the ground he walks on?"

"You know, when I first came here they considered putting _me_ in Slytherin? Until I insisted they put me in Gryffindor because you lot are all so bloody depressing to be around. Despite what people here seem to think house isn't everything. So what, I'm a Gryffindor, does that mean I can't be nice to you? Or would you prefer it if I was a complete arsehole?"

Severus took a step back changing his threatening stance, looking confused and wary though interested at the same time. "You're not going to hex me and call me _Snivellus?_"

"I won't if you don't," grinned Harry.

Snape sneered, but he turned back to Harry's uncoordinated cutlery and frowned, "You're not doing the wand movement right," he pointed out.

The lesson progressed and slowly, so slowly it was like getting blood out of a stone, Harry managed to get talking to Severus.

"So, favourite subject?" Harry asked, swinging his legs as he sat in the desk watching Severus now trying to teach the knives ballet. "Actually, don't tell me, let me guess." Harry pretended to be thinking hard, "I bet everyone thinks your favourite subject is potions, because you're really good at it, but what you _really _enjoy is Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Snape glared at him for what seemed like the hundredth time, true, the boy had yet to crack a genuine smile, or make any kind of expression that could be considered pleasant, for that matter, but it wasn't anything Harry couldn't handle.

"And how," he drawled, "Do you know that?"

Harry shrugged, "I'm good at reading people. The real question is, is it the Dark Arts you enjoy, or the Defence bit?"

/Lily was staring over at Harry and Severus so hard that her cutlery was barely moving. Alice had given up trying to get her attention and started charming the spoons by herself, leaving Lily to contemplate.

First he was befriending younger years, now he was engaging a begrudging Severus in a civil conversation? Harry was turning out to be less and less like James than she had originally thought. He was mature, and kind, unprejudiced and…

"…a dream," she sighed.

Alice glared at her, "What was that?"

"Nothing!" Lily squeaked.

And she was glad Severus seemed to be talking to someone, engaging with the world. Every time Lily thought of Severus her eyes seemed to prick. She hadn't spoken to him since the night outside the Fat Lady when he had apologised for calling her a Mudblood. For a while after that he had kept on attempting to regain her trust, at times begging her to forgive him, but she had simply walked away. It wasn't that she wasn't heartless, he had after all, once been her best friend.

But being Muggle born had used to not matter to Severus, and when he had called her that horrible word, even if it was out of humiliation or misdirected anger, she knew he had truly changed. They were different people, he was an aspiring Death Eater, everyone knew that and Lily had heard the kind of things their obscure cult believed in, they were sadists, and Severus wanted to be one of _them_.

It seemed the only reason she wasn't seeing the evidence of his new loyalties right before her eyes was because Mulciber, Avery and that crowd had left last year, leaving Severus more friendless than ever since then he had drawn into himself, not even Death Eater friends to hang around with now. She still had a soft spot for Severus Snape, she always would, but now that spot just pained her when she saw what he had become.

Seeing him talk to someone took a weight off her mind, seeing that that someone was Harry gave her great admiration for the new boy.

/Almost as the question had left Harry's lips Flitwick called an end to the lesson. Snape began packing up his things and heading for the door. Harry followed him.

/Sirius nudged James, "Looks like Granger survived," they both looked at Harry packing up his things beside Snape. But all four of the Marauder's jaws dropped when they saw Harry follow Snape out, talking to him.

"What the hell? Did you see that?"

James had seen it all right, and was more than a little irritated, "It's nothing, it's just because Harry doesn't know what _Snivellus_ is," he rolled up his sleeves and pulled out his wand, "I think we should go and explain, don't you?"

Sirius laughed, Peter grinned, and Remus frowned, biting his lip as they followed James out of the classroom.

/They were halfway down the corridor when Harry heard James' voice,

"Oi! Snivellus!"

It was as if a switch had been flicked, the students leaving the classroom stopped, and turned to see the scene that was forming fast. Harry looked at Severus, who had frozen, his hand shooting to his wand, and turned to see the Marauders making their way down the corridor to where he and Snape stood.

In about ten seconds the crowd had formed a jostling ring in the middle of which the Marauders, Snape and he stood.

There was silence except for James' taunting voice and Severus' furious breathing.

"Haven't spoken to you in a while, _Sevvie,_ you missed us?"

Snape glared at him with pure loathing, "I'll kill you, one of these days, I swear to god, Potter, I'll kill you." he hissed.

James ignored him and turned to Harry, "I don't think you understand, Granger, the kind of person Snivellus here really is. He didn't tell you himself? How careless of him." James was enjoying this, playing to the crowd, and Harry hated it. He hated the familiar taunting tone, he'd heard that tone before, when he himself had been jeered at in a circle of onlookers, the tone was cruelty.

There was a sudden flash as Snape attempted to hex James but was too slow, and James yelled _"Levicorpus!"_

Harry felt anger swell up inside him, his father was so stupid. He would continue to taunt Snape. Taunt him to the point that Snape was so bitter that it took the death of the girl both he and James loved to show him the length of his wrongdoings. His eyes flickered to Lily, she was staring at the scene with disgust, disgust at James, disgust at Severus. Snape was hanging upside down, his wand clattering on the floor beneath him. It was horribly similar to that scene by the lake.

"You see Harry," said James nonchalantly, flicking his wand so Severus hit the floor, then flew back into the air again, he continued, punctuating his words with flicks, the thud of Severus colliding with the stone echoing through the corridor. "He is nothing but a pathetic-"

_thud_

"-slimy-"

_thud _

"-snivelling-"

_thud _

"-Deatheater!" James finished with a look of triumph on his face, and look at Harry like he expected him to laugh at a particularly funny joke he'd just cracked.

Harry strode forward and did something he could never imagine himself doing.

He punched his father in the face.

James dropped his wand to grab a bleeding nose and Severus fell to the floor, scrambling for his wand. Sirius had pulled his wand on Harry, but Harry pointed his own at Snape, who had been about to curse an injured James.

"Back off, Severus," he said in deadly tones, "Go to the hospital wing or something."

Snape glared at him, but he must have seen something in Harry's eyes that he did not wish to argue with, because he picked up his bag and walked away, the crowd parting as he went.

Harry turned back to James, "You're an idiot," he stated. " You walk around here like the model golden boy. Smart, funny, popular, good at sports, you think that's what's expected from you, the greatest bloody Gryffindor to ever walk these corridors?" James stared at him, stared round the circle, this had never happened before, no-one had ever called him an idiot except Evans. Everybody else thought he was great, right?

"But," he spluttered "He's a Deatheater!"

"I like you James, you're a cool guy, except for when your ego overtakes your good nature. Where does it say that bullying makes a good Gryffindor? Gryffindor is 'where the brave dwell at heart.'" Harry shook his head at an increasingly stunned James, "And I always thought bullying was the coward's way out. Take my advice James, because if you don't learn to let go of your pride one day it may stop you from getting something that you truly want."

Harry couldn't help but cast a meaningful glance in Lily's direction. And with that he shifted his own bag onto his shoulder and strode off. The tense silence that had surrounded them burst into a clamour of talking at what had just been witnessed, Remus glanced at the other Marauder's. "I'll go talk to him. You get James cleaned up," he said, and followed Harry. Lily, on hearing these words, pushed past them and began pursuing Remus.

James stared at Sirius weakly, blood still flowing from his nostrils, "What…just…happened?" he asked, bewildered.

Sirius shook his head and couldn't suppress a grin,

"I don't know mate. But that was one heck of a punch."

**A/N: Yeah! You tell him Harry! Heh. Sorry if this involves some OOC ness, it was really hard to know how to depict Snape, I had to keep on returning to his memories in the last book to try and get it right. As for Harry, bear in mind that he's a lot wiser now after the war, I think the epilogue shows that. Oh, and I've started spelling Lily right now, sorry about that. Review!**


	8. Scars and Snap

**A/N:**

**Hurrah for great news! I have a Beta! Yes! The first Beta I've ever had! Thank you Trillium248. Hopefully now this chapter will be free of any mistakes. She is helping me get over my comma addiction, I seem to have a phobia of full stops, apparently they are crying out to me to be used! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything…at all…sob.**

Scars and Snap

Remus found Harry in the library, nursing a throbbing hand.

"Hurt much?" Remus ventured, making Harry, who had not yet noticed him, jump and spin around,

"Yeah," he grinned sheepishly, clearly unsure about Remus' reaction to the fact that Harry had just punched one of his best friends in front of a crowd of people.

Remus sighed and gave a small smile back, "Look-" he began, but stopped suddenly when someone else hurried into the library, a slightly out of breath red-head named-

"Lily Evans?" Remus asked weakly in slight disbelief.

She looked between Remus and Harry and blushed, aware she had just interrupted something.

"Um…don't mind me…carry on…" she mumbled, taking a couple of steps back and lingering in what she clearly thought was an unobtrusive way.

"Er…" Remus paused, having lost his train of thought and noticing that Harry was looking at a fidgety Lily with a strange expression, "Look," Remus repeated with a little more force than was necessary, snapping Harry's attention back to him. He continued. "What you did back there was very…admirable," the young werewolf cringed when he realised how old that had sounded _'admirable?' _what was he, seventy?

But Harry had merely raised his eyebrows, "You think hitting James was admirable?"

Remus shook his head, "Well, not that part specifically, more standing up for someone because it's the right thing, standing up _to_ someone who maybe needed to be taught a lesson…" he trailed off awkwardly but Harry was still waiting for him to continue, Remus couldn't help but feel he was being seen through, with that piercing, all-knowing stare the headmaster seemed to have. It prompted him to explain.

"I…_know_ James and Sirius can…get out of hand, and I know I should stop them when they go too far it's just…"

Remus realised he couldn't really explain why he didn't stop them without admitting that he was a teenage werewolf secretly attending Hogwarts. James, Sirius and Peter were the only ones who knew. They accepted him for what he was and even learned to become animagi to keep him company on the full moon. Needless to say, he couldn't really tell Harry _that_.

"It's just, they're you're friends," Harry summarised in a nutshell; Remus stared at him; for an adolescent Harry really did have some amazing clarity of thought sometimes.

"Er…yeah," replied Lupin, adopting a more conventional, monosyllabic style of teenage communication.

"You think the rest of them are going to be so accepting?" Harry frowned,

"Ah, well don't worry, I'll attempt to smooth things over, besides, James will probably just sulk for a while and get most of his frustrations out in the bet tomorrow, he'll be your best friend after that."

"Only because he's sure he'll win," Harry said almost sadly and then, catching sight of Remus' expression, rolled his eyes, "But you don't think that's going to be a problem."

The werewolf shrugged apologetically, "Sorry, James _is_ an exceptionally good flyer."

"Yeah well, we'll see," sighed Harry, non-committal.

Behind them there was a delicate clearing of the throat and both boys remembered they were not alone, Remus bid Harry a gruff goodbye (the standard embarrassed procedure when you've been caught practicing a little male bonding, or expressing any kind of real feelings in public at all, for that matter) and exited wondering what Lily would want to talk to Harry about, and hoping that he still looked too much like James for her liking. After all, it would be hard enough to smooth things over with Prongs without a romance blossoming.

Lily approached Harry nervously to say the least. Yeah, she had tossed her hair and strode about after him giving the appearance of confidence, but when it came to actually talking to him she had no idea what she wanted to say… but she just couldn't let that whole thing happen without saying _something!_

She hoped Harry would say something first, give her that annoyingly cheeky grin and voice something she could respond to, but no such luck, he seemed especially unforthcoming today. _Damn._

"Um…you should know I…I don't condone violence…Harry," she winced, oh Merlin, was that the best she could do? Man, was _she_ rusty on pick-up lines…what happened to her feminine wiles? She was a girl for goodness sakes! Wasn't flirting supposed to be what they did?

But all thoughts of attempts to get Harry's attention were driven out her mind when he laughed at her.

Yep, laughed at _her_, Lily Evans.

"Oh come on, Lily, are you telling me you didn't enjoy that even a little bit-you're supposed to hate James, remember? Or was that all just an act?" he raised his eyebrows at her.

This boy was just getting more infuriating by the second! _Oh…and kind of more charming by the second too_…damn it, that treacherous little voice was back.

She snorted derisively at his suggestion, it wasn't very convincing. She met his eye and sighed, "Okay, yes, I did enjoy it a teensy bit, but that's partly because Severus doesn't deserve to be treated like that!"

Harry nodded, "Uh-huh," he said sarcastically, "That would be the reason, of course."

Lily couldn't help it, and grinned back at him sheepishly.

"So tell me Lily, I can't help but wonder, when are you and James finally going to get together?"

Lily gaped at him, "W-what?" Of all the random things Harry tended to come out with she had not been expecting that.

He shrugged "It's kind of obvious James is completely in love with you."

She blushed furiously, "Oh yeah? How come he acts like such an idiot around me all the time?"

Harry chuckled,**: **"Unfortunately, I think it's the only way he knows how to impress girls. If you pay closer attention, you'll see he's trying desperately and when it doesn't work he can't figure out why, poor guy. He doesn't realise it's because you're different from the other girls. He doesn't realise that that's why he feels the way he does about you. Also, you have to remember, he's a teenage boy, and has the emotional range of a teaspoon, something a friend of mine taught me." Harry was wistfully reminded of Hermione and Ron's bickering in the common room.

Lily laughed at that but then looked at Harry, "_You're_ a teenage boy and you don't act like that." It sounded almost like an accusation.

Harry frowned and looked uncomfortable, "I had to grow up fast."

Lily was confused "Why?…Oh! Because you had no parents!" she blurted out in sudden realisation, and then clapped a hand over her mouth at how blunt she'd been. But Harry chuckled.

"It's okay, don't worry about it,"

She lowered her hand, "Sorry," she mumbled,

"How did you know?"

"Alice told me," she said meekly,

"Ah, I forgot how fast news travels at Hogwarts," Harry slipped without noticing.

"It's kind of awful what a big bunch of gossips we are, isn't it?"

Harry abruptly changed the subject, "Are you going to come see me play against James tomorrow?"

Lily frowned, "You know it's not really allowed, I'm head girl after all…"

"And James is head boy, c'mon, _please?_ It would be nice if my m-er…if _you_ could see me fly one time." Lily stared at him hard. There had been a note of something odd in that request, but…if he wanted her to see him fly so badly, who was she to refuse?

"Okay…" she relented and Harry grinned, "But I'm going for you, and not Potter, so stop teasing me about him, you sound like Alice."

The bell rang for their next lesson, "Maybe Alice is a smart girl," said Harry.

--

When Harry reached his dorm that night he went prepared, he did not know how the others were to react or how successful Remus had been in smoothing things over. But as soon as he entered the room Sirius bounded up to him, "Granger! Fancy a game of exploding snap?" Harry glanced at James' bed, which had its drapes drawn around its occupant resolutely. Sirius followed his gaze and grinned "Awesome punch by the way," he whispered,

Harry caught Remus' eye, who was sitting in the corner reading a book as Sirius began setting up the game and mouthed a 'thank you.' Throughout the rest of the evening it became clear that James would sulk until morning, Peter would just go along with the general mood and Sirius' attention span was just too small to really remember whether he was supposed to be annoyed at Harry or not. It seemed Harry's dramatics would not really have a lasting negative effect on the Marauders.

The evening was spent so pleasantly all Harry's worries were allayed, none of them had much homework to do as it was only the beginning of term and the teachers weren't cracking down on them too hard yet so they lounged around their dorm playing card games and (in Remus' case) reading books. Harry briefly wondered why they weren't down in the common room and then realised that even if he was sulking, none of the Marauders had the heart to abandon James.

"SNAP!" yelled Sirius as Harry and Peter dove for cover and even Remus pulled his book up in front of his face to protect himself from the impending blast. Sirius, unfortunately, was just an instant too slow as the miniature explosion went up in his face. The blast shook the candle brackets on the walls and knocked belongings off surfaces. Coughing and spluttering from settling soot they emerged from their respective places beneath beds to see a black mark on the floor and a stunned Sirius still sitting cross-legged. He looked like a cartoon, with hair sticking out at all odd angles and a blackened face, cards strewn around him.

James tugged back his drapes violently, a frown on his face, "What the hell?-" he stopped short at the sight of Sirius, they stared at each other with bemused expressions for a couple of instants and then simultaneously burst out laughing; for as much a state as Sirius looked, there was a big purple bruise running across James' nose from the day's earlier events. Remus, chuckling, leant over and fished out the card pack from amidst the debris.

"Bloody hell Sirius, what was that?" Harry asked, "I've never known exploding snap to be so…explosive."

By then they had all got the giggles and as Remus read "_'Zonko's Extra Strength Exploding Snap, Have a Blast, Now with More Might than Ever Before. _The room echoed with renewed laughter.

When their stomachs had stopped aching from laughing too hard and Sirius had gone to try and wash his blackened face, Harry addressed a grinning James, "Look, James, I'm sorry about that ," he gestured to his purple features, " I let my temper get the best of me, besides, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey could clear that bruise up in a second."

James eyed Harry for a moment, "It's okay I guess-" but before he could continue there was a shriek of agony and Sirius burst into the room, his face was now free of soot but-

"_My eyebrows!_" Sirius gestured above his eyes, he had suffered the fate of those unfortunates who simply were not quick enough in Exploding Snap:

His eyebrows were completely singed off.

There was a stunned silence followed by the sound of four boys simultaneously attempting to stifle sniggers into the nearest pillow. "It's not funny!" he cried, "I'm hideous!"

"Come on," consoled Peter, "It's not _that_ bad."

"Not that bad?" Sirius moaned, "They were my pride and joy!"

"I thought your hair was your pride and joy?"

Sirius looked at him with mournful eyes, "Eyebrows _are_ hair!"

"Don't worry Pa-Sirius, Remus will just charm them back on for you!" James pointed out. Sirius fixed his eyes on Remus and threw himself at his feet.

"Will you Moony?" he was obviously too distraught to remember Harry wasn't supposed to know their nicknames, "Please, please, please! I'll be your servant forever!" he begged,

Remus put his book down and sighed, rolling up his sleeves, "I'll give it a go, but I'm not promising anything mind, I've never done anything like this before."

About half an hour later Remus leant back with a tired sigh, "I'm afraid that's the best I can do," He frowned pensively at Sirius' face "I'm not sure why they turned out like that though."

Sirius felt above his eyes and grinned, "What are you talking about? They're great!"

"Er, Sirius, you might want to look in the mirror…" Harry suggested,

Sirius glanced into the mirror set into the wardrobe to discover that his eyebrows were indeed intact but were also now blue. Sirius reacted better than they had expected, he shrugged and sighed with defeat, "Well, I suppose blue is better than nothing,"

"A wise conclusion!" declared James, Harry couldn't help himself and snorted, which made James snigger in turn.

Sirius smiled, "Oh, shut up Harry," he said half-heartedly,

"Hey, at least my eyebrows are still a decent colour," Harry teased back, pulling up his fringe and waggling them at Sirius tauntingly.

"Hey, at least I haven't got a whopping great scar on my forehead," Sirius announced triumphantly, Harry stopped short and tried to flatten his long fringe over his scar realising he had just revealed it by pulling his fringe up, but by now it was too late.

"Where? I never noticed any scar," asked James,

"Yeah, show us Harry," Peter interjected, Harry looked around at them all and sighed,

"Okay, if I have to."

He pulled up his fringe and showed them the lighting bolt slash across his forehead, they 'oohed' and 'ahhed' appropriately. "Wow, that's so cool!"

"Must've really hurt," said Sirius, impressed,

"How did you get it?" asked Remus, even his interest was caught,

"In the car accident that killed my parents," there was a suitably subdued silence, the Marauder's embarrassed at their reactions now they knew the scar's origins. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they were unlikely to ask any more probing questions.

But when he glanced at Remus the young werewolf was looking pensive and not entirely convinced.

--

Meanwhile, in her dorm, Lily was being confronted by Alice.

"Okay, enough is enough; I demand you tell me all."

Lily looked up from the book she hadn't really been reading with a confused expression, "Tell you all of what?"

"Of what is making you sit there with such a dreamy expression on your face, and don't tell me its nothing," Alice quickly interrupted before Lily could object, "Because I've known you for seven years now Lily and I've never seen you act this weird."

"Weird?" Lily had the nerve to sound offended at her wording,

"Yeah, like a normal girl for once! Instead of being caught up in books and immune to every boy in school!"

Lily squirmed in her seat, "Well it's…it's because of…Harry Granger," her voice was so tiny Alice didn't think she would have understood if she hadn't been expecting it.

"Yes! I knew it!" Alice announced triumphantly,

"Knew it?" Lily sounded appalled, "Has it been that obvious?"

Alice laughed, "Well, let's see, you're always talking about him, or wanting to talk to him, or if you're not doing that, wondering where he is, what he's up to…Then, of course, there's the fact you're always staring at him with those big round eyes from across the classroom. My suspicions were confirmed today when you turned up to lessons with him in tow almost five minutes late. You're never that late unless you have a good excuse."

"Oh Merlin! I couldn't have been any more transparent could I?" she moaned, Alice sat down next to her,

"Don't worry, he doesn't know you like I do. Besides, if he's like every other boy, he's probably too dense to realise you like him."

"You don't understand, Harry isn't like other boys!"

Alice snorted, "That's what they all say,"

"No, I mean, he's perceptive," Lily thought back to their DADA test, "_very_ perceptive."

Alice shrugged, "Well, never mind, I'm just glad someone's finally caught your interest, I got tired of being the only love struck fool in this friendship."

Lily grinned, "Aha! So you _do_ like Frank, better, you loooove him!" Alice went bright red, "That's not important, stop trying to change the subject; we're talking about you, remember? Now, has he done anything to show that he likes you?"

"Well…he's offered to tutor me."

Alice shook her head, "Too homework-ish, not romantic enough so it doesn't count,"

Lily huffed, searching in their past conversations, "Oh, I know, he wants me to go see him fly at the bet tomorrow."

"Bingo!" Alice smiled, "That is definitely a signal of interest!"

Lily frowned and sighed, "I don't know, he keeps on saying things…"

"Like what?"

"Well, hints and stuff that I should let James take me out…"

"What?" Alice looked definitely confused for a moment, the cogs turning, and began muttering to herself, "Unless…hmm…oh!...he's a clever one…very clever…"

"Will you please explain what you're talking about?"

"Well everyone knows you hate James, right?"

"Yes,"

"And everyone knows James is crazy about you,"

"But-"

"Let's just say you believe me, okay?"

"Okay,"

"And Harry is fast becoming good friends with James and the Marauder's and wouldn't want to upset them," she paused and shrugged "despite the whole punching thing,"

"Ye-es,"

"So by encouraging you to go out with James, he's being a good friend, he also knows it's highly unlikely you'd even consider it,and therefore he's moving your relationship forward by inviting you to go see him fly!" Alice concluded triumphantly.

"Effectively he's having his cauldron cake and eating it."

Lily blinked, "That seems a bit unfair to James…"

"Rubbish! All's fair in love and war. To be honest, I'm impressed. It's not like a boy to be so smart. Maybe you're right and he is more perceptive than usual."

Their conversation was interrupted by a faint '_boom' _echoing through the corridors of the dorms, Lily sighed, "Someone's gotten hold of a pack of those Extra Strength Exploding Snap cards again, honestly, does no-one care whether something's banned or not?"

"I think it's just you and Filch," Alice grinned, and then chuckled loudly,

"What?"

"I was just thinking, it's just like you to fall for a guy who's practically the twin of the boy you supposedly hate!"

Lily frowned, "I never said James wasn't attractive, just very annoying. If he could just sort out his personality I'm sure he'd be fine."

"Yeah…right."

--

As Harry left for the bathroom Remus seized the moment.

"Marauder's meeting!" he announced, catching the attention of his friends.

As if with practiced precision the four boys scramble into the centre of their dorm and sat cross-legged in a circle. "Excellent! We haven't had a meeting in ages!" grinned James.

"Yeah, and you _never_ call them Moony,"

"Which reminds me, Pads, you've got to remember not to use ours nick-names in front of Granger. You called Remus 'Moony' earlier without even noticing."

"Sorry," Sirius looked slightly abashed.

"Er…shall we start?" Remus asked, worried that Harry would return before they even began.

James, however, _tsked_, "You're not doing it right Remus."

"Well, how do you do it?" Remus asked irritably.

"Let the meeting commence!" James announced grandly. Remus rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I would like to call something to the Marauder's attention."

"And would that be why you've called this meeting, Mr. Moony?"

Remus sighed, "Yes, James," James gave him a look, "Yes, Mr. Prongs," he corrected.

"Proceed," said Sirius solemnly. Remus hesitated. He trusted Harry and so was only slightly concerned when he had realised that the other boy wasn't telling the truth. Perhaps Harry had a perfectly good reason for lying about how he got his scar, but Remus had always shared everything with the Marauder's. It couldn't hurt now, surely?

"I suggest that Harry isn't being entirely truthful with us about the origins of his scar." The rest of the Marauders looked at each other and Remus curiously, "What makes you think that?"

"The shape of Harry's scar is too unusual to have been created by a car accident. I reckon it was caused by magic."

"Why would he lie about it?" Peter asked, confused.

"I'm smelling something fishy about this," said James with narrowed eyes.

"What does Mr. Padfoot suggest?"

"Um…looking up magical scars in the library," the rest of the Marauders looked disappointed.

"How about Moony researches, and the rest of us try to find out more about it from Harry?" offered Sirius.

"_Mr_. Moony," James corrected.

"Fine, _Mr_. Moony, are we agreed?"

"All in favour say aye!"

"Oh come on now, this is just getting ridiculous!"

"What say you Mr. Moony?" James continued stubbornly.

"Aye," Remus relented wearily.

"Aye!"

"Aye!"

"Excellent!" announced Sirius.

"Meeting hereby adjourned!" declared James.

"I'm going to bed," said Remus.

**A/N: Okay, forgive me, I know not much happens in this chapter, if its any consolation the next chapter is where all the excitement starts! Oh, and this is a full 10 pages long so be happy!**


	9. Wagers and War

**A/N: Okay, okay, I know it has been eons since my last update but I had Swine Flu so please find it in your hearts to forgive me! This story is beta'd by the great Trillium248 who helps me get over my long sentence problem and even made me a little diagram demonstrating how my original Quidditch move wouldn't work-how many Beta's do that?**

**Other Notes: **I thought I'd clear some things up, I know when we first met Bill I implied he'd be Quidditch captain, people have informed me that in fact he was head boy and Charlie was captain. At the time I wasn't sure which got which and if I'm perfectly honest, I couldn't really be bothered to check so sorry about that!

Also, I was immediately corrected by several people about James in fact being a chaser and not seeker. I made the most rookie mistake possible and confused the films with the books! However, no worries, although at first this was a mistake and I intended to keep it as such I suddenly had an idea of how to work it into the plot, so please stop telling me I've got it wrong…now I know!

**Disclaimer: As always, none of the characters belong to me. **

**This chapter is dedicated to Shi-Koi for her awesome review-I hope your other half enjoys it and I love your description of Lily's thing with Harry as 'squicky' it definitely is fun to write those 'squicky' bits! XX **

Wagers and War

The day dawned bright and chilly, sunlight streaming through the window of the boys' dormitory. Harry, having been awake for many hours already was glad for this sign that the sun had risen. With a small sigh, he slipped out of bed and into a pair of Quidditch robes, provided by Dumbledore, who seemed to think of absolutely everything. 'Then he quietly made his way out of Gryffindor house towards the Quidditch pitch.'

Broom in hand, Harry was glad for the deserted school corridors. All he needed now was a bunch of students catching him about to head out for a quick practice before the bet. It was Lily's warning about the gossips of the school, as well as her suspicions at breakfast, which made him think the Marauder's were going to keep this event less than private. And hadn't he encouraged it? He had, after all, invited Bill.

As he shuffled through the damp grass, trainers slightly sodden, he realised he hadn't been on a broom since he had arrived in 1977. Although it had only been four days, it felt like a life-time, especially as Harry spent every hour he could on his broom when he was stressed. And despite how it might have appeared to the Marauders and the other students, Harry was definitely stressed.

In fact, he had created more stress for himself than was needed. He was _supposed_ to be the new, go-with-the-flow Harry, and the fact that that plan was going disastrously just made it all the more…made it all the more, well, disastrous.

It was this place, this time, the echoes all around him. It was easy to forget for an instant that these people, Lily, James, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, even Severus were all, well, dead, especially when he could see the disputing evidence of this fact right before his eyes. It was harder to deal with when the instance of forgetfulness passed. Harry had just been coming to terms with the loss of these people, and yet here he was, catapulted into the past with the faces of dead people at every turn.

Still, the words of Dumbledore kept popping into his head: that it could take months to find a way to get Harry back. Suddenly, Harry felt a surge of homesickness. Images of a peaceful year with Ginny and his friends had been swept from his mind the moment Dumbledore had spoken to him about his inability to fix the broom.

He came to an abrupt halt, realising he had reached the deserted expanse of the Quidditch pitch. Early morning mist swirled across the grass. Harry stood for a moment, a figure in black clutching a broom. He breathed in the crisp morning air. With an odd sigh of frustration and relief Harry listened to the faint cry of Thestrals from the forbidden forest; frustration as he contemplated his situation, relief at the prospect of the flight before him.

In one flowing movement, he mounted his broom and threw himself into the air.

The wind whipped his hair about his face almost painfully, like so many of his problems trying to hold him back. But they had no success, he was soaring, flying higher than the goal posts, higher than the turrets of Hogwarts, higher than any thoughts or troubles could chase him. For one brief instant, Harry stared up at the endless sky, the clouds calling to him. In that moment, he wondered if he could remain in the depthless blue above him forever, before he fell back over himself, tumbling and gathering speed.

He threw his arms wide. He was coming back down to earth now, the patch of green that was the pitch spinning up to meet him. With this, the feelings he had out-flown caught up with him, except they couldn't weigh him down now. Something was rising in his chest that was buoying him up more powerfully than any broom could. It burst out of his mouth in one loud, gasping laugh...it was joy.

Harry let out a whoop that seemed to echo around the grounds as he somersaulted round to skim over the grass. His feet threw up dew spray around him as he sped through it. This was it, this was all there had to be, just the air and wind and sky. It simply didn't get any better than this.

­­­--

Sirius Black had been known to lie in bed until tea time if left to it. Today, however, had been different.

"Arrgh!" he shot up clutching his forehead and gasping for air. For a few moments he sat there, shuddering slightly at the horrible nightmare he had just witnessed. He stumbled blearily out of bed and into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and was about to admire himself in a mirror when he had to stifle a scream.

It hadn't been a dream.

His eyebrows really were blue!

He sagged down onto a toilet seat with a depressed moan and, to ensure that he didn't catch sight of his reflection again, stared resolutely out of the window. Sirius was suddenly startled out of sombrely contemplating his fate (why me?) when he realised what he was looking at.

The Gryffindor tower provided some fantastic views over the grounds and, more conveniently, the Quidditch pitch. Sirius suddenly lurched forward off the toilet seat, wrenched open the window, and stuck his head out to get a better look at what was occurring on the pitch.

Wincing at the sharp morning air, he fixated his gaze on the little figure that was now looping in between the goal posts. At first glance he had thought it was bird, but now he realised that the figure was far too big for that. No, it was definitely a person, but holy crap could that person fly. Sirius wasn't surprised he had mistaken them for a bird, as he watched the black-robed flier perform a deadly and spectacular dive along the corner of a stand, they looked liked they belonged in the air.

He quickly ran through all the house Quidditch teams in his head, there was definitely no-one there that could fly like that. There was a reason that Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup the last five years running – and that reason was that there was no-one else at Hogwarts that could catch a snitch like James Potter. Sirius' mind immediately made a very important connection, and he quickly took the steps out of the bathroom and headed back to his dorm.

No-one at Hogwarts could catch a snitch like James Potter, but someone was going to try, today, free period. He tip-toed past his sleeping roommates and pulled back the hangings of one particular bed, only to find it empty and his suspicions confirmed.

Harry Granger was going to try and catch the snitch before James Potter.

And by the looks of things, he had a very sporting chance indeed.

--

Harry was feeling a little weirded out.

Every five seconds he couldn't help but flatten his fringe down over his scar, it wasn't just that it had become a nervous habit, it was that he was sure his story about his scar last night hadn't convinced all the marauders. Why was he sure of this?

Because his godfather wouldn't stop staring at him.

Harry speared another piece of sausage on his fork and tried to avoid catching Sirius' eye, which was surprisingly difficult when he was sitting right across from you.

That was really the only explanation he could think of. They had all gone to bed and the next morning over breakfast Sirius seemed to have developed some sort of fixation with him. And if the likes of Colin Creevey and Moaning Myrtle were anything to go by, fixations with Harry were never a good thing.

Harry cleared his throat and glanced down the table. Lily was sitting beside a round faced girl she always seemed to partner with in class. He grinned and waved. Lily went a bit red, and Harry supposed he must look pretty goofy since the girl beside his Mum giggled rather loudly. He found he didn't really mind.

Suddenly, Sirius felt something hard collide with his shin and looked down to discover it was a foot belonging to an annoyed looking James.

"What?" Sirius already knew what was coming as James plonked himself down beside the eldest Black boy.

"That makes five people who have asked me about my nose this morning-as if they don't already know how I got it!"

"Maybe they don't?"

"Oh, please, the whole school is buzzing about our punch-up yesterday, I swear, if Snivellus tries anything like that again-"

Well, it wasn't really a punch-up, Sirius thought, so much as Harry kicking James' ass, and Snape wasn't really that involved…but then Sirius realised that James had stopped mid-sentence and that his friend's face was now turning a colour to match his bruised nose.

James was watching a smiling Harry wave down the table at Evans, who blushed right back. Sirius bit his lip. If there was ever a button to push with James, it was Lily Evans. "That Granger…" James seemed unaware that he was attempting to butter his empty plate as he continued to glare between Harry and Evans, muttering to himself.

Sirius decided to change the subject to less dangerous topics, "I thought you patched it up with Harry last night? You know, after the whole 'humiliating you in front of a crowd of people' thing."

Did I mention Sirius was never very good at changing the subject?

James angrily stuck his knife into a jam jar and proceeded to add another layer to his plate. "Yeah, well, I won't really be able to forgive him until I humiliate him right back at the bet, then we'll call it quits. He won't know what's hit him! Thinks he can beat me…" James' muttering quickly became incoherent as he nursed his injured pride. Sirius wasn't really listening anyway, instead he was chewing at his lip again.

Sirius might not be considered very perceptive, but James was his best friend and Sirius knew him better than he knew himself. He _really_ needed to win this bet if he was ever going to get over Harry hitting him. After that, they'd be even. Forgive and forget. But then, of course, James thought that he was going to beat Granger hands down. One thought was now coursing through Sirius' mind:

Oh dear.

--

Lily caught up with Harry as he climbed the steps from the entrance hall. Harry waved the marauders on and Lily couldn't help but notice the array of odd looks he got from them. Potter glared at them both before stomping away. Remus gave Harry a friendly if slightly confused smile and Black looked like he was ready to burst with some kind of emotion (Lily briefly wondered why his eyebrows were blue, but then with the Marauders you never knew). Peter as always was oblivious to all, devouring a muffin from breakfast; Harry didn't seem to notice the unusual mix of reactions either.

Lily grinned shyly at him, _stay cool_, said the little voice in her head, "Harry, I was wondering-"

"Lily! That's where you've gotten to!" Alice rushed up to them, throwing Lily warning glances whilst dazzling Harry with her smile. They had discussed this, Lily would wait for Harry to make the next move, that way she wouldn't seem too eager. But Lily had…well; Lily had kind of ignored the plan. And now Alice was interfering.

"Lily," Alice said through her smile, still giving her a threatening look, "Do you remember that thing we were discussing? About, er…our Care of Magical Creatures lesson and how you should let the Hippogriff come to you before you…pet it? Lily snorted loudly but managed to disguise it as a cough, honestly, Alice was really awful at this subtlety thing. Her meaningful glances at Lily made her look like she had Mad Cow or something.

"Actually, you should wait for it to bow back." Harry corrected.

Alice's bright smile dropped a few inches, "What are you talking about?" she asked, completely puzzled.

Harry looked at her strangely, which made Lily want to laugh even more, this conversation sounded crazy! "The Hippogriff, you should wait for it to bow back before you pet it..."

"Oh...anyway, Lily, come along," Alice tugged at her arm, "you don't want to be late for our first lesson."

"Our first lesson starts in half an hour," Harry pointed out, looking increasingly unsure of Alice's sanity. Lily attempted a casual expression, when she was actually trying not to burst into giggles.

"You go ahead Alice, I'll just say goodbye to Harry," Lily smiled benignly at the glare she received from her friend,

"But-"

"Go on, Alice," Lily urged with a little more force and then, for payback, she added "You can tell me all about your snogging session with Frank later." At this Alice went very red, turned on her heel and hurried away. Harry stared after her.

"Frank? As in Frank Longbottom?" Lily nodded an affirmative, "And Alice is dating him?" Harry seemed to find something about this rather amusing.

The redhead looked sheepish, "Well they're not _actually_ dating."

"But you said-"

"I was just trying to embarrass her-but they both fancy each other like mad, they're just too shy to do anything about it."

Harry smiled, "I'll see you this free period then?"

"Yes, although I won't be setting a very good example by being there, I am a prefect and Head Girl after all," she frowned.

"But everyone is going, Remus is a prefect and he'll be there, James actually made the bet and he's head boy!"

Lily knew this was a moment she could use to her advantage. To entice Harry a little, show him what he was missing. The red-head concentrated hard on the instructions Alice had given her. She let her eyelids droop slightly, smiled her most dazzling smile at him and let the volume of her voice drop. "Good Luck then, I'll be hoping you win." And with that she turned with a swish of her long red hair and headed up to Gryffindor, she glanced back only once triumphantly to see Harry grinning at her from the bottom of the stairs.

The funny part was that as much as Lily Evans and James Potter seemed to disagree on everything at that precise moment they were thinking exactly the same thing:

Harry Granger never stood a chance.

--

It was free period.

And it seemed like half the school had turned up to see the new boy take on the legendary James Potter. An excited buzz was saturating the air where the students milled around the edge of the pitch. When Harry arrived in the quidditch robes that Dumbledore had given him, there was an impromptu cheer. He was the underdog, the only person naive enough to take on Potter, so frankly they all felt a little sorry for him.

Unfortunately for Harry, that sympathy didn't really translate when money was involved.

"Roll up! Roll up! Place your bets here, excellent odds-oh, hi Harry!" Sirius had caught sight of Granger from up on his podium (yep, he had a podium) where otherwise the crowd of bobbing heads would have obscured Harry from view. People were waving bits of money and betting slips in his direction, chattering loudly about the likely results of the bet. So, mostly they were discussing how badly Granger would get his ass kicked.

The crowd parted to allow Harry through as he made his way up to Sirius. The elder Black offered him a hand and pulled him up onto the platform before chalking something up on a blackboard and taking some more betting slips from waving hands in the crowd.

"Place your bets here!" he rumbled again, "Excellent odds!"

"What are the odds that I'll win?" Harry asked curiously.

Sirius looked shifty, "A hundred to one."

Harry didn't even look grim, "I should've known, really, no-one here even knows if I can get the broom off the ground."

"Yeah...right." Sirius seemed oddly guilty but before Harry could ask him about it he heard his name being called.

"Harry! Harry!" someone was squeaking from the fray below, Harry searched for the source of the sound and his eyes settled on a red shock of hair bobbing up and down with excitement. Bill was surrounded by a small group of first years who all looked like they were suffering from a potent combination of terrible excitement and fearful intimidation at all the older years around them.

"Harry!" Bill called again, trying to make himself heard over the din of animated students.

"That's James Potter! Not Granger!" One of the group of first years, a bold looking blonde, piped up.

"No!" Bill squeaked indignantly, just as a surge of pushing from within the crowd threatened to topple him, "That's Harry! He has green eyes!" Another of his group squealed as they dodged the large foot of a Hufflepuff who wasn't looking where he was going. Harry decided to help them out.

"Bill! Up here!" he held out his hand, with an audible sigh of relief Bill and co. were quickly deposited onto the platform.

"Hey! No punters on the podium!" Sirius protested,

"Relax Black, they're with me," Harry explained.

Bill's chest swelled at the thought of a seventh year sticking up for him, but the rest of them were simply staring at Sirius Black in awe. Sirius was almost as famous as James. He was a member of the Quidditch team, a prankster extraordinaire, and a devilishly handsome ladies man, not to mention the rumours of him owning a flying motorcycle- apparently a dangerous kind of Muggle broom.

The group of first years watched in reverential silence as Black chalked something else up. Finally one of them got up the nerve to whisper to his peers, "Why has he got blue eyebrows?"

"It's obviously like a seventh year thing," the brave blonde boy whispered back knowingly.

"It's awesome," someone else declared. There was murmur of agreement among them.

Harry stifled a chuckle and turned to Bill. "Are you going to place a bet? Don't worry, I won't mind if you don't bet on me, I realised the odds are somewhat outbalanced."

Bill suddenly grew very solemn, his small frame straightening, "You must win Harry, there is a lot riding on this." Harry attempted to arrange his features to match the redhead's serious tone but found instead a smile spreading across them.

"Really? That much, huh?"

Bill went a little red, "Well, my Honeyduke's and Zonko's fund for the next few months."

Harry's grin became even bigger, "Thanks Bill."

By the looks of things the crowd around the pitch had swollen to an inestimable size. Surely some students had to be missing lessons for this? Harry scanned the busy scene before him, thinking that the teachers must have caught wind of this event. Harry stopped scanning suddenly and watched a first year that looked suspiciously like Professor Flitwick place a bet with Sirius.

_Then again, maybe the teachers get just as excited about this sort of thing as the students._

Another, rather louder, cheer went up when James arrived. Lily rolled her eyes, she really hoped Harry won, however unlikely it looked. She'd get a kick out of seeing James getting knocked on his ass.

The problem with James Potter wasn't with the way he looked, even Lily could admit that Potter was handsome. Nor was it that he was smart. Although, it was bit annoying when he seemed to slack off and _still_ get good grades (though they were never as good as Lily's of course). It wasn't even that he was the Quidditch captain, Lily enjoyed the thrill of a Quidditch match as much as the next person and Potter sure could fly. It was that he was just so dreadfully aware of it all. There wasn't a moment when he wouldn't use his status with the student populace to its full advantage. And now, Lily fumed, was clearly one of those times.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I give you the second contestant…James Potter! The betting polls are now closed! " Sirius introduced his friend as he climbed up on the podium beside Harry. It would've been hard to tell them apart from Lily's place in the crowd had it not been for the large bruise running across James' nose.

James' eyes were narrowed in determination whilst Harry looked very laid back, smiling at the crowd. Well, that made sense, thought Lily, everything was a competition to James, but Harry thought it was just a bit of fun.

Sirius stepped up; he was obviously loving this. The whole crowd went silent, watching him eagerly. "Witches and Wizards!" the eldest Black threw his arms open wide dramatically. Lily rolled her eyes again but his dramatics seemed to be working on everyone else.

"In a few moments I will release _this_," Sirius punched his hand into the air where a small ball with frantically fluttering wings could be seen struggling in his clenched fist. "Both flyers have been placed on randomly selected school brooms so that the circumstances remain impartial. The first rider to capture the snitch wins! The only rule is there are no rules!"

There was a murmur of excitement from the crowd at this, but Remus Lupin suddenly appeared, tapped on Sirius' shoulder and muttered something into his ear. Sirius straightened up, grinning sheepishly, then added "Oh! And…er-the second rule is that neither rider is allowed to use their wands at any point. Thank you, now, let the seeking begin! Remus, if you please."

Remus shuffled forward looking harassed. Clearly he did not want to be on the platform. He turned to Potter and Granger, "When I send some red sparks into the air with my wand you may take off."

"Now, mount your brooms." Remus ordered, and Harry and James obediently swung their legs over the handles of their broomsticks. Harry could feel James' intense gaze upon him and knew that he was out to win this. Harry didn't really mind who won or not. It was burning curiosity that plagued him now, everyone had always said that he had inherited his flying skills from his father, now was his first (and probably only) chance to find out just how true this was.

Harry briefly broke his gaze with his father to glance at Remus, the young werewolf grinned briefly, gave Harry a wink and shot a burst of red sparks into the air. The snitch was released and the two boys, father and son, shot off from the ground like bullets from a gun.

Harry felt his leg muscles thrust forward with instinctual force as his body was flung into the air on the enchanted piece of wood. James span upwards with equal ease and finesse, his black hair flying in all directions in a mirror of Harry's. In unison their heads jerked for a sight of the snitch which Sirius' had just released, and in perfect synchronisation their bespectacled eyes narrowed upon the fluttering glimmer of gold already weaving its way across the pitch. A roar of mixed cheers and screams rose from the crowd in uncontrollable excitement as the two competitors leaned forward on their brooms and sped after it.

Harry quickly realised that he and his father were far too evenly matched, in fact, it was as if they were twins, their flying styles were pretty much identical. Just as Harry decided to fall back, James would slow down beside him, just as James attempted to overtake below him, so would Harry drop lower without even realising. Harry heard his father make a frustrated noise between his teeth as they repeated a loop beside each other, neither one of them getting any closer to the walnut-sized ball flying ahead of them. He could hear the crowd below laughing and pointing at their antics and inability to out-fly each other.

And then, much to both Harry's and James' surprise, the snitch disappeared.

The moment the snitch took a sharp left and drifted into the cluster of trees a few yards from the pitch boundaries, Remus spun around to see Sirius looking far too pleased with himself. "The snitch can't do that, it's spelled to stay inside the pitch!" Remus accused and Sirius barked a laugh,

"Not any more it isn't!"

Remus didn't know whether to berate Sirius or laugh. This was certainly going to make things more interesting, he thought, as he watched the two boys swoop after the ball.

Soon, Harry saw the familiar flicker of gold and realised that the snitch had left the pitch; he had never known it to do that before. He didn't dwell on it long however, for James was already sweeping over the trees in hot pursuit. They were flying right beside each other now, whipping through the air sometimes mere inches from each other, Harry could almost feel the tension in his father's body like it was crackling in the air, static electricity between them.

If the snitch could have snickered, Harry would have sworn now would be its moment to let out an evil chuckle as it suddenly dove beneath the cover of the treetops. For a couple of bewildering moments, both teenage boys continued to skim the green canopy before, with a determined glare at one another, they followed their prize beneath the leaves. Harry heard a collective squeal of excitement from the crowd before he was plunged into relative silence, the muffled cheers disappearing behind him.

It was eerily quiet within the outer reaches of the forest, the cold September sun breaking through the leafy roof at random intervals to form pools of light around them. These were the pools of gold that the boys darted in and out of, like dragonflies across the glimmering surface of a pond. Finally they had broken apart, and Harry could just make out James by the flicker of his shadow and the faint swish of his motion as flitted between the ancient oaks in search of the ball.

The trees pressed in around them, creating formidable obstacles which they had to dodge. James' progress was severely slowed by the danger of colliding with the closely growing oaks. It was here, however, that Harry's reflexes proved themselves superior. You didn't spend half your life dodging curses for nothing, and the looming branches did little to check his speed.

Harry heard James' voice cut clear through the silence as they whizzed circles around each other, ears straining for the telltale flutter of wings. "Come on Granger! Why not just give up? You should have known better than to challenge me! No-one's ever beaten me, did you know that? No-one! I've gone easy on you up until now, but not any more!"

Harry gritted his teeth and ignored his father's baiting, James was just trying to distract him and his gloating tone ground against his patience. Did he try to intimidate everyone like this? It wasn't surprising that people failed to notice the snitch when the most popular boy in school was mocking them, usually in front of a crowd of people. But Harry was going to teach him a much needed lesson. Besides, how did James expect to ever get with Lily if he acted like this all the time? At the moment she didn't even _like_ him, for Merlin's sake!

With narrowed eyes and smug grin, Harry retorted, yelling through the flashing trees around him, "I'm sorry to disappoint you Potter! But now comes the time for you to Eat. My. DUST!!!" And with a sudden burst of speed Harry sped after the flicker of gold that James hadn't yet noticed.

--

The crowd of people were murmuring among themselves, having gathered around the shadowy edges of the forest. James and Granger had been gone for some moments now and it was impossible to make out anything within the murky darkness of the trees. Just when they were considering sending someone in to see what was happening a faint whizzing of motion could be heard, growing louder to a crescendo when Harry burst through the trees with a triumphant yell, close behind the snitch and gaining.

There were screams as James appeared soon after, and lucky for some of the more innocent younger years, he was moving too fast for them to hear his angry curses. They were heading across the grounds now, moving ever closer to the lake. With shouts and cries the spectators hitched up their robes and chased after the two seekers with tumultuous delight.

Harry risked a glance behind him only to see James's dark locks whipping in the wind close behind.

_Come on Harry!_ He urged himself onwards, _You've out flown a dragon and matched yourself against an international Quidditch player_,_ for goodness' sakes! Why can't you out-manoeuvre your own Dad?_

Then it came to him in a flash of realisation: Out-Manoeuvre. That was it, Harry knew moves decades' ahead of James' time, all he had to do was use a trick his father had never seen before. He scanned through his memories of the articles in Quidditch Weekly, searching for a tactic useful in this situation. Finally he alighted upon one but it was very dangerous if it went wrong. That is, if James proved more daring than Harry had anticipated. But Harry had yet to meet someone who took as many risks as he did on a broom and was confident that his father would not see what was coming.

Abruptly, far too quick for James to expect it, Harry fell back, watching James move ahead of him just far enough for him to think he had the upper-hand. If James was anything like Harry, he would be too fixed on his goal to care about whatever stupid move his opposition was attempting. At the same time he dropped low, by this time they were flying over the glassy clear water of the lake, and Harry could clearly see his reflection in the water. He accelerated with all the will he possessed, his speed blowing ripples across the water. Lower still, his toes skimmed the surface, throwing up spray. He was slowly catching up again, narrowing the space between himself and the oblivious James above him. The snitch was barely meters from his father now, flitting this way and that temptingly, his hand already outstretched in anticipated victory and a grin spreading across his triumphant face.

Harry levelled beneath him with perfect timing and steeled himself for his final, hazardous stunt.

With a final burst of speed he spun vertically upwards.

Now, any Quidditch player will know that the last thing you want to do several feet in the air is to collide with someone else. It can be very nasty. So when James glanced beneath him to see Harry corkscrewing upwards, heading right for James' exposed body with breakneck speed, naturally his first instinct was to get the hell out of the way. With a cry of shock and indignation James was forced backwards by Harry's speeding body.

Harry continued shooting into the sky as if oblivious to how close he had come to hitting James. Finally his hand extended to snatch the little winged ball from the air and from James' incredulous eye line.

His momentum carried him upwards, spinning further and further into the blue of the sky. For a split second there was a stunned silence before the crowd assembled at the lakes' edge released an overpowering bellow of approval that echoed across the water with Harry's joyful whoop.

Harry barely had time to land before being buried beneath a mound of bodies, most of which he didn't recognise. Most noticeably, an ecstatic Bill fought his way to the centre of the melee to grab Harry's hand and punch it into the air. His group of first year friend's were soon starting a chant of "HE DID IT! HE DID IT!"

Harry was filled with an overwhelming sense of familiarity, this was something he knew: The triumphant team spirit of Hogwarts greeted him like an old friend and it didn't matter that he wasn't with his friends or even in his own time for a moment. He was carried and handed and jostled to the front where somehow Sirius had managed to maintain his place on the podium. Pulled upwards in full view of everyone he faced a bemused looking set of Marauder's. Sirius however, quickly regained his composure to announce, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you our winner, HAAARRRY GRAAANGER!"

James landed behind the cheering crowd unnoticed and forgotten, his broom trailing behind him like so much useless wood. He didn't understand. One moment he had been looking at victory and the next it was literally snatched from his grasp, to be handed to a relative stranger.

He watched as _his_ peers,_ his_ friends, _his_ congratulations and cheers of approval surrounded Granger. For the first time in his life, James wasn't the centre of attention and he hated it. His sense of bitter shame at his loss even prevented him from joining them in admiring Granger's innovative flying.

The final straw came unexpectedly, like the knife had been driven deeper in to his heart. He saw Lily Evans, radiant, beautiful, passionate Lily, climb onto the podium and with a swish of red hair and a smile she would never give James, pull Harry into a shy embrace. Just like that. It was like James was looking at a reflection of himself, but one that had taken on a life of its own and stolen his without anyone realising it.

James' grip tightened upon his broom. He was a Potter, Potter's never let their side down, never gave up, did whatever it took to reach their goals. If Granger thought he could take James' life then woe betide him. If Granger thought that James would sit by and watch him get everything the Marauder had ever wanted handed to him on a platter, then he was sorely mistaken. If Granger wanted a fight then that was just what he would get.

This meant war.

**A/N: Dun, Dun, DUN! Wow, I thought that was a pretty exciting chapter, didn't you?****If you did, tell me your favourite bits, if you didn't review anyway for the hell of it!**

**I tried to make the flying as original and exciting as possible, I didn't exactly start throwing myself from great heights to try and experience it for myself but I definitely tried to imagine what being on a broomstick would be like. I hope it's as dynamic as I attempted to make it. **

**Lots of love to all my readers, the next chapter will see just how close to heart James takes this thing and more awkward Harry/Lily moments! Arghhh!**

**Love, Peace and Wizard Feet.**


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